The End of B&B
by AnnMagda
Summary: What if The Bold and the Beautiful, as we know it, was coming to an end? Who would live? Who would die? What familiar faces from the past would resurface? And what does Anthony's psychic vision mean?
1. Chapter I: One Year Left

**Chapter I: One Year Left**

"Merry Christmas, everybody!"

Dayzee smiled as she welcomed family, friends and acquaintances to her cozy coffee house. It was usually crowded, and even more so today, when she was hosting a big Christmas party and had invited virtually everyone she knew. It was not unusual for her to arrange these kinds of holiday celebrations for the homeless and lonely, whom she had dedicated most of her life to helping, but this year was special. It was the first Christmas since Stephanie Forrester passed away.

She had died only a few weeks before Christmas, and at first, Eric had not wanted to celebrate the holidays at all. After some persuading from Thorne, he had finally relented, but was adamant that he could not bear to spend Christmas Eve in the house where he had lived most of his life with Stephanie. So, instead, Dayzee had had the idea to invite the entire extended Forrester family to Dayzee's for the evening, so they could share this joyful time of year with those less fortunate than themselves.

And they had all come. Dayzee looked around at all the familiar faces - Marcus, Eric, Thorne and his daughter, Taylor and her children, Pam and Donna, Brooke, Rick and Hope, the entire Spencer family including Katie who had finally begun to overcome her deep depression and was cradling her newborn son, and even Ridge had returned to Los Angeles at last. It was amazing, she thought, what a diverse group of people they were, and how they were still tied together in so many ways - through children, through marriages and former marriages, through Forrester Creations… through Stephanie. Her powerful presence was really what they had all had in common, and now that she was gone, it was painfully obvious how little it would take for this family unit to crumble and fall apart under the pressure of its own internal conflicts.

"But not today", Dayzee thought to herself as she got on the stage and grabbed a microphone. "Tonight, we are all family."

The noise in the room subsided as Dayzee asked for everyone's attention.

"I would like to wish all of you a Merry Christmas", she began. "May your holidays be filled with peace and hope for a brighter future. Anthony…"

Her friend joined her on the stage, bringing his guitar. Dayzee smiled at him encouragingly, and he started playing a few chords. Together, they started singing a Christmas carol to Anthony's accompaniment, and soon most of the guests were singing along with them.

"O come all ye faithful…"

Suddenly, Anthony stopped playing and put his guitar down abruptly with a startled look on his face. It took a while for Dayzee to notice, as everyone else continued singing merrily, not seeing what had happened. After the song was over, the crowd burst into applause, but Anthony seemed not to notice. Instead, he rose and turned away to face the wall. Dayzee followed him with a vague sense of anxiety.

"Anthony, what's wrong?" she asked. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing", the man said, but he didn't meet Dayzee's concerned gaze.

"It didn't look like nothing to me", she insisted. "Come on, tell me! Are you feeling sick?"

"I'm fine", Anthony said in a voice that clearly signaled that whatever it was, he would not talk about it. "It's nothing. Don't worry, Dayzee."

But Anthony was worried. Because as he was sitting on that stage, playing the guitar and looking out over the singing crowd, he had had a sudden vision. He had experienced similar things before, and he knew from experience what they were - glimpses of the future. They were what had earned him a reputation on the streets of LA as a psychic. He had never been wrong yet. And this time, what he had seen had truly frightened him:

The sound of a Christmas carol. Then, a flash of light and a loud sharp sound. A carpet soaked in blood. Faces - some of the same faces that surrounded him today, but empty and lifeless. And the feeling of inevitability. The certain knowledge that somewhere, not too far away, something was about to happen that would set this horrible chain of events in motion. Something that he would be unable to stop.

* * *

The young girl sneaked into the badly lit Nevada nightclub. The place was thick with cigarette smoke and full of people. Some were sitting around tables, playing poker. Others were drinking at the bar. A couple of tired musicians and a haggard-looking singer were performing jazz standards on a small stage, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to them. In the darkest corners of the room, pairs of scantily clad ladies and seemingly wealthy men were engaged in intimate conversation. Dollar bills were exchanged and the couples quickly disappeared to somewhere more secluded. The newly arrived girl approached the bar. A couple of heads turned in the darkness - she seemed much too young to be there.

"What can I get you?" the bartender said, not one to ask too many unnecessary questions if the answers might get him in trouble.

"A job", the girl said and looked at the man behind the counter with a steady gaze. He laughed.

"Hey, Luigi!" he shouted, turning his back to the girl. "There's a kid here who wants to work for you!"

A large bearded man with black hair approached from an inner room behind the bar. His looked around in the darkness until he saw the girl standing there. He smiled enigmatically.

"Hello there, little lady", he said. "Do your parents know you are here?"

"Haven't got any", the girl retorted.

"Really?" Luigi laughed. "No mother? No father? Maybe you just rose from the waves of the sea, like Aphrodite? Judging by your looks, I might believe it."

Luigi looked at the girl. In spite of her heavy makeup, she looked quite young, thirteen, fourteen? Her dark eyes looked at him defiantly but not without a certain charm, he thought, and her face was beautifully framed by her short black hair. He reached out to touch her cheek with his fingers. She started and recoiled.

"What is your name, sweetie?" he asked, smiling again.

The girl paused, but only for a second. Then she answered with confidence:

"Laura."

It was probably for the best that she didn't reveal her real name, she thought. After all, someone might try to find her.

"All right, 'Laura', what kind of work is it that you do?" Luigi asked. He had clearly picked up on her hesitation but decided to let her get away with her lie.

"I could wait tables", the girl who had just named herself Laura answered. "Or I could help out in the bar, or… well, anything, really."

Luigi was still smiling in a way that was starting to make her uncomfortable.

"I think we'll go with the 'anything'," he said slyly. "Let's go into my office and discuss it."

A waitress had just walked up to them, carrying a tray of empty glasses. She couldn't have avoided hearing part of the conversation. Looking at Laura, she took her gently by the elbow.

"Get out of here, honey", she whispered. "This is no place for you."

Luigi shot the waitress a hateful look. He seized her by the arm and pushed her away violently. She dropped the tray and nearly fell to the floor, but managed to regain her balance at the last moment by grabbing hold of a table.

"You stay out of this!" Luigi hissed. "Now, look at the mess you just made!"

The waitress didn't reply, but started picking up the broken glass from the floor. Meanwhile, Luigi extended his hand to Laura.

"What do you say, little lady?" he cooed. "Shall we go somewhere private to settle the terms of your employment?"

Laura pondered his offer for a second. Her every instinct said she should just turn around and leave while she had the chance. She didn't like the atmosphere here, and Luigi frightened her. But where would she go? She couldn't go back home, she had sworn that she would never return. It was this or the street.

Slowly, Laura took Luigi's outstretched hand. He grinned.

"Merry Christmas, kid!" he said.


	2. Chapter II: Good Mornings

**Chapter II: Good Mornings**

Alexandria Forrester lay quietly in her bed. She could hear her father moving around just outside her door, but she didn't want to let him know that she was awake already. It was better to let him make his preparations undisturbed.

She knew exactly what he was doing. First, he was arranging the presents underneath the Christmas tree in the living room. Then, he was filling their Christmas stockings with tiny gifts. And finally she could hear him going out on the deck to make Santa's footprints (yes, footprints!) by the jacuzzi.

Of course, Alexandria had stopped believing in Santa Claus many years ago, and her father knew it. But it was a silent agreement between the two of them that he would keep making these little arrangements, and that she would keep acting amazed and thrilled every Christmas morning when she saw them. Maybe it was a bit silly - after all, Alexandria was not that little anymore, nearly a teenager in fact, but Thorne felt that there was no need for her to grow up faster than she had to. They had had enough of that in the family, he thought. All these kids, barely out of high school, getting married, getting pregnant… Thorne was determined to let his daughter stay a child for as long as she liked. She had already tragically missed out on what most children take for granted: a mother. He wanted to make sure that the rest of her childhood was not lost.

"Ally, honey, you are not going to believe what Santa brought this year!"

It was the call Alexandria had been waiting for. She jumped out of bed, opened the door and ran into the living room. Thorne was standing there with a silly grin on his face. There was a mountain of presents underneath the Christmas tree. Alexandria dived onto the floor to retrieve them.

"Good morning, father! Oh, good morning, my darling daughter! Merry Christmas, father! Well, a very Merry Christmas to you too, dear! I'm just going to stand right here while you open all those gifts, so let me know if you need anything…" Thorne teased, carrying on the imagined conversation with his ungrateful daughter.

"Dad, stop!" Alexandria giggled. "You know, a girl has got to have her priorities straight!"

"Of course, of course", Thorne agreed with mock resignation in his voice.

Alexandria laughed.

"I love you, Dad", she said. "Sorry I got a little carried away. Wow, is that really…?"

She had started unwrapping the biggest present. It was an electric keyboard.

"That is so cool!" Alexandria enthused. "Will you teach me how to play?"

"What makes you think I can play that thing?" Thorne said, smiling.

"Well, you're my father, aren't you? That means you're supposed to be a genius, a super hero and a rock star, all rolled into one!"

"Who told you that, Ally?"

"You did!"

Alexandria continued opening her presents, and Thorne watched her, now and then throwing in some humorous remark which his daughter answered in kind. All things considered, it was really a very pleasant Christmas morning.

Then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Alexandria cried, jumping to her feet.

She opened the door and found Taylor standing there, carrying a bag of presents. Alexandria's demeanor underwent a sudden dramatic change.

"Dad, it's for you", she said coldly, returning to her room and closing the door behind her. Taylor was left standing in the doorway, disappointed and hurt. Thorne went up to her and embraced her warmly.

"Honey, it's all right", he said soothingly. "She'll come around. You'll see."

"Will she?" Taylor asked. "Will she really?"

* * *

Upon awakening on Christmas morning, Laura was surprised to find that she had actually slept. She had stayed up late the night before, thinking about the surprising and quite frightening turn her life had taken over the past 24 hours.

Yesterday, she had finally decided to leave her foster parents' home for good. After roaming the streets for a few hours, she had found this seedy looking night club, where she had subsequently found a job as a…

"Waitress", she told herself. "I am a waitress."

But it was not her qualifications as a waitress that Luigi had checked last night.

"I am still better off", she told herself, trying to shake the feeling of disgust. "I have a job. I have a roof over my head."

Because, finding out that she had nowhere to go, Luigi had kindly offered her a small room in a corridor directly above the nightclub. She had accepted, on the condition that the room had a door that could be locked from the inside. And somehow, after a few sleepless hours spent pacing the floor, she had gone to bed, exhausted.

What woke her up this morning (was it even morning? Judging by the sun shining brightly through the only window, it must be close to midday) was a timid knock on the door. When Laura didn't answer immediately, the knock was repeated, this time a little stronger.

"Who is it?" Laura replied.

"I'm Barbara" a tentative female voice answered from behind the door. "I live just across the corridor. With… with Luigi."

Laura hesitated. This woman was Luigi's…what? Roommate? Wife? Mistress? Did she have any idea what he had done last night? Would she be upset if she found out? Slowly, Laura rose and unlocked the door. A thin middle-aged woman with weary eyes was standing there carrying a breakfast tray.

"Oh", she said as her eyes met Laura's. "You _are _young."

There was a moment's awkward silence. Then Barbara continued:

"May I come in? I brought some breakfast. I thought we might talk."

Laura took a step back and let the woman enter. She was still in her nightgown, which she had covered with a dirty brown robe. Looking around for a chair but finding none, she sat down on the bed and put the tray beside her.

"Luigi told me you came yesterday looking for a job", Barbara said.

Laura simply nodded, not really knowing what to answer.

"I wish I had seen you then", Barbara continued. "I would have told you to leave. I'd have told you this is not a good place."

"The waitress said the same thing to me last night", Laura admitted.

"So why are you still here?" Barbara asked, sadly. "By now, you must know what kind of establishment this is. Who Luigi is and what he does."

Laura looked up, surprised. The other woman nodded. It was evident that she was not only aware of what had happened with Luigi the night before, but used to it.

"I have seen it happen many times", Barbara said. "Every time a new girl comes here, it's a tragedy. But I've learned not to get involved. Luigi doesn't like it when I interfere in his… his business."

She pronounced the last word with bitter irony. Then, after a short pause, she continued, looking firmly into Laura's eyes:

"But you are simply too young. I won't have it! I can't just sit back and let you ruin your life like this."

"How do you know my life isn't ruined already?" Laura scoffed. "Besides, if this place is so horrible, if Luigi is such a bad guy, why don't you leave yourself?"

"It's different", Barbara said quietly. "I have nowhere else to go. He is all I have. And this is the only life I know."

"So", Laura said nervously, "do you work as a… I mean, are you a…?"

Barbara shook her head.

"No", she replied. "There was never any question of that. I guess in a way Luigi thinks of me as his personal possession and doesn't like the idea of sharing me. No, I usually just perform with the band. Sometimes I help out in the bar as well. I only wish I had spotted you last night so I could have prevented…"

"Listen, Barbara", Laura interrupted, "I really don't have anywhere else to go. And whether you believe it or not, this is actually no worse than the life I had before I came here. So you really can't do anything to help me."

Thinking it over, Laura thought her words might have come across as a bit more brusque than she had intended. So she added:

"I appreciate your concern, though. So thanks for trying."

Barbara smiled.

"And I'm gonna keep trying", she said. "You deserve better than this. What's your name, by the way? Oh, never mind, don't answer that. Nobody here goes by their real name anyway."

"I told them to call me Laura", Laura said.

"Okay", Barbara nodded, rising from the bed. "Laura. It has been nice meeting you. I'd better get dressed, so I'll leave you alone for now. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will", Laura replied. "Thanks for the breakfast, by the way!"

But the woman had already left.


	3. Chapter III: Bad Evenings

**Chapter III: Bad evenings**

Later that day, Thorne stopped by to visit Taylor in her beach house. Their planned Christmas celebration had ended rather abruptly, and he felt he couldn't leave things like that.

"I'm glad you came", Taylor said as she let him in. "We do need to talk."

"Yes", Thorne said as he sat down on the couch while Taylor poured him a cup of hot tea. "I'm sorry about this morning."

Taylor shook her head.

"Don't be", she said. "It's not your fault. And it really isn't Ally's, either. She just has a hard time accepting our relationship. Given the circumstances, it's no wonder. I mean, for so many years, it's been just you and her. The two of you have been a family unit ever since Darla died. And I guess she still can't get past my role in that tragedy."

"Taylor", Thorne protested. "It was an accident, a horrible accident. You know I don't hold you responsible for that. Nobody does."

"That's not true", Taylor answered. "Ally does. And sometimes, part of me thinks she's right."

Thorne was silent. Even after all these years, he still felt angry when thinking about his wife's death. At first, he had been angry with Darla for being in the road in the first place, but that had passed quickly and he had felt guilty almost immediately for even thinking it. Then, he had been angry with Taylor for driving the car that hit Darla. Finally he had come to the conclusion that it was all a tragic accident and that nobody was to blame. But the anger was still there, he just didn't know where to direct it. At Fate? God? The California weather? It would have been much easier to blame a living person, someone who could be confronted. And that was the choice Ally had made.

"Ally keeps a lot of negative feelings bottled up inside", Thorne agreed.

"You know", Taylor said, "maybe it would be good for her to talk to someone. A professional, I mean. Someone outside the family. I could recommend a few colleagues… what about James? I could give him a call if you like."

Thorne nodded.

"That might actually not be such a bad idea", he said. "This situation is hard for everyone. Including you."

"Oh", Taylor shrugged, "I'm fine. This is not about me."

"It's never about you, is it?" Thorne smiled. "You are too busy looking out for everybody else. Me, Ally, Thomas, Steffy…"

"Not that my children need looking after", Taylor said, laughing. "Thomas is interim CEO of Forrester now, and Steffy is perfectly capable of handling whatever comes her way."

"But now that Ridge is back in town, don't you think he is going to want that CEO position back?" Thorne asked. "My brother was never one to step down."

Taylor thought about it for a moment.

"Well, in my opinion, Thomas has done a good job. Maybe Ridge will see that and let him continue."

"And even if he doesn't, who's to say Tom and Steffy won't take matters into their own hands? They are the majority stock holders now", Thorne reminded her.

"They wouldn't do that to their father", Taylor replied with conviction. "I don't see that happening."

A soft beeping sound interrupted their conversation.

"I wouldn't be too sure", Thorne said, looking at his phone. "I just got a message from Thomas. He has called a board meeting, first thing tomorrow morning."

* * *

Laura stood at the bar. This was officially her first night at work, and she had spent most of it waiting tables, to her own relief. But for the past fifteen minutes, a tall blonde man had been eyeing her from the other side of the room. Laura looked back uneasily without making any attempt at encouraging the man.

"Are you blind? That's a customer. Go fetch!"

Starting, Laura turned around. It was Luigi who had addressed her, and his tone of voice showed plainly that he would not accept being contradicted. Laura took a deep breath and glanced at the blonde man again. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, she told herself. Hopefully, it would be quick and he wouldn't be violent. The girl closed her eyes for a moment to fight back a sudden bout of nausea.

"Here", said the bartender. "Have one of these. It usually does the trick."

He poured her a shot of tequila. Hesitantly, the girl reached out for the glass, but before she could get hold of it, it was gone. Someone else had grabbed it. A few seconds later, the glass was back on the counter, empty. Laura stared with astonishment at the woman who had just downed the liquor in one gulp.

"Thanks, Bob", Barbara said. "Put it down on me, will you?"

"Why did you…" Laura began, more surprised than angry at the other's seeming rudeness.

Barbara put a cold hand on Laura's arm.

"Honey, don't ever start", she said. "It's just gonna be hell trying to give it up. Come on, let's go outside for a breath of fresh air."

Barbara's grip on Laura's arm got firmer as she tried to pull the girl away from the bar, in the opposite direction from the blonde man, who was still watching the scene intently. Confused, Laura let herself be motioned towards the exit. But they only managed to walk a few steps before Luigi's large frame blocked their view of the door.

"What are you two up to?" he roared.

Barbara snarled back at him, bravely looking straight into the man's face even though he was nearly twice her size. Laura almost had a hard time recognizing the soft-spoken woman who had brought her breakfast this morning, but then again, this time she seemed to have got some Dutch courage.

"This girl is underage", she told Luigi, as if he wasn't already aware of that. "You are not gonna pour her tequilas. And you are not gonna sell her to strange men. If you do, so help me God, I'll…"

"You'll what? Huh? What will you do?"

Luigi grabbed hold of Barbara with both hands, shaking her fiercely.

"I'll go to the police!" Barbara whispered. "I'll tell them all about you and your club. Every sordid detail. The illegal booze, the girls, all the shady transactions between you and your so called business associates…"

The man smiled, a menacing smile that showed all his front teeth.

"You will tell nobody", he said calmly. "You never did before, and you won't now. Understood?"

Barbara didn't answer. She had lost some of her determination and was looking frightened now.

"Understood?" Luigi repeated with more force.

Still getting no reply from the woman, he raised his right arm and struck her across the face with the palm of his hand. She fell to the floor. A waitress ran to her side.

"Come on, Barbie, get up", she said encouragingly. "That's better. Now let's go up to your room and get you cleaned up, okay?"

The waitress led Barbara out of the room and up the narrow flight of stairs that led to the corridor with bedrooms. Laura followed them with her gaze. She felt sorry for Barbara, but couldn't help thinking that it might not have been the best idea to antagonize Luigi so openly. It was a mistake that Laura herself would not repeat, she thought.

Luigi was still standing next to her, breathing heavily, and visibly upset. The blonde man was gone - he had disappeared during the commotion. But shortly after, another man, a short bald one with glasses, came up to Laura, speaking to her in a friendly but somewhat awkward tone. Laura looked at him, then at Luigi who was watching and nodding imperceptibly. The girl forced a smile and turned to the bald man.

"Hello, handsome, would you like to come with me upstairs?" she said.

The bald man gave Laura an embarrassed smile.

"As a matter of fact, yes…" he mumbled. "I haven't been here before… you are very pretty…"

Feeling a bit more confident, Laura took the bald man by the hand. Together, they went up the stairs and into her room.

It was all over very quickly. And it hadn't even hurt that much, Laura thought. The man had been very gentle, almost timid, and had seemed nearly as nervous as she was. Once he was done, he had paid and left without a word, without looking at her and without even taking the time to close the door behind him.

Laura rose from the bed. She needed to go to the bathroom, to take a long shower, to drink some water. Wrapped in a nightgown, she went into the corridor. Passing another door, she could hear a hushed conversation from within.

"I'm sorry, Barbie, I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

Luigi's voice sounded concerned, regretful. He continued:

"It's just that I lose my temper sometimes when you answer back at me like you did down there. You know I don't like that."

"It's all right", Barbara's voice replied. "I'll be all right. It's not that bad."

"You know I love you", Luigi said tenderly. "I could never live without you."

"I know. I… I know."

Laura continued walking along the corridor. She couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, but she didn't really want to. When she reached the bathroom, she carefully locked the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she got in the shower. Now, nobody would be able to see her weeping.


	4. Chapter IV: The Takeover

**Chapter IV: The Takeover**

"Steffy, I'm glad you could make it here a bit early!"

Thomas rose excitedly as his sister entered the office. It was absolutely necessary for him to win her over before the board meeting.

"Anything for you, big brother", she smiled, raising an eyebrow. "So, come on, tell me what all this is about!"

Thomas looked around to make sure the door was closed. Then he leant forward and started talking in a quiet but elated voice.

"It's about the future of Forrester!" he said. "You and me, Steffy! We could bring this old company into a brand new era - as CEO and president!"

"Come again?"

Steffy stared at him. Thomas could hardly contain his enthusiasm.

"We have controlling interest, Steffy, we could make it happen! I have so many creative ideas for this company, things I'd like to do if I'm only given the chance. And you've got the brains, the ruthlessness, the business instincts… don't you see? We'd be the perfect team! So, tell me, are you in?"

"Thomas, what… what has got into you?" Steffy asked. "I mean, what about Dad? What about Grandpa? Do you really think they'd be okay with this?"

"Not at first", Thomas admitted, "but once we succeed they'll see what we are made of. And we'll make them lots of money, we'll reach a whole new group of customers - the young, the trendy, the daring! It's a win-win situation!"

"You… you are really serious about this?"

"Dead serious."

Steffy thought about it for a minute. Thomas had obviously meant every word he said. But had he really thought about the consequences?

"You know, Thomas", she warned, "once we do this, there is no going back. This could backfire. It might even tear the family apart."

"Not necessarily, not if we prove ourselves. And I know we can. I have faith in us. So, what do you say?"

Thomas looked at his sister eagerly. She went over the pros and cons one last time in her mind. Then she replied:

"I'm in."

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the other shareholders, members of the board and important employees. One by one, they entered the room and sat down around the table. Everybody was there - Eric, Ridge, Thorne, Brooke, Rick, Hope, Caroline, Bill Spencer, even Pam and Donna, although their presence was due to curiosity more than any real purpose.

Even before Thomas had started speaking, the room was thick with tension. Brooke looked uncomfortably at Ridge - she had hardly spoken a word with him since he had broken off their relationship so abruptly over that stupid text message. She wondered if he would eventually come to his senses or if it was really over this time. But today, he wouldn't even meet her eyes. All of his attention was focused on Thomas at the moment.

"Welcome to this board meeting", Thomas said. "I know this is short notice, but I have something to discuss that can't wait."

"Well, Thomas, what is it?" Eric asked.

He looked very old today, not having slept very well for the past few weeks.

"I have a proposal to make", Thomas explained. "Maybe the most important proposal in this company's history."

Hope laughed nervously and questioned what could possibly be that important.

"This", Thomas said, handing out a document for everyone to read. They all studied it in silence, for what seemed like a very long time. Thomas and Steffy waited with bated breath. Ridge was the first to speak.

"Thomas", he said, struggling to keep his voice calm, "I appointed you interim CEO because I thought you were the best man for the job in my absence. But I sure as hell didn't expect this!"

Eric threw his papers down on the table.

"This is outrageous!" he said. "My God, if Stephanie were here… this is not why she left you her shares!"

"I can't believe this!" Rick exclaimed. "It's ridiculous. We will be the laughing-stock of the industry. Dad, come on, there's got to be something we can do to stop this!"

Brooke said nothing. But she was very pale.

"So", Thomas said, clearing his throat, "shall we take a vote? Everyone in favor of me staying on as permanent CEO, and Steffy being promoted to president, say Aye. Aye!"

"Aye!" Steffy said.

Ridge and Eric both voted Nay, knowing that their joint shares of 32,5% were powerless to stop the takeover. Bill Spencer reflected for a moment before casting his vote, then said:

"Aye. This could be fun!"

"Well," Pam said, "if my calculations are correct, a decision has been made in favor of Thomas's proposal with a majority of…"

"67,5% against 32,5%", Brooke filled in coldly. "Thank you, Pam, we know."

"Very well, then", Thomas began in his best CEO voice, "now when this has been settled, I suggest we all get back to work! There will be quite a lot of changes around here, so check your inboxes for more info! Thanks for coming!"

Everyone rose from their seats and exited. Most of them looked confused, shell-shocked even. Bill laughed out loud, as if he had just been witness to a sublime practical joke. Eric, Ridge and Rick were visibly furious, whereas Hope and Brooke looked frightened more than anything else. Caroline was surprised and a little embarrassed. She couldn't shake the feeling that Thomas was doing this in part to impress her. And even though this change of direction would likely benefit her, she was uncomfortable with the hostile reactions that the rest of the Forrester family had displayed at the board meeting. Only Thorne showed no reaction at all. He didn't stop to talk with his family, but instead hurried to the basement to give the employees down at shipping and sewing an update about the situation. They had been quite concerned lately about the lack of stability in the company's management, and Thorne knew that he had to do everything he could to calm them down. Even though part of him shared their concern. The other part of him, the immature part that he didn't like to admit he still had in him, had been quite satisfied to see the look on his elder brother's face when the news was announced.

"What goes around comes around, big brother", he had thought to himself. "Now you know what it feels like."

But his second thought had been "I need to get in touch with Pierre at International and do some damage control!"

And his third thought was "Taylor needs to know about this!"

* * *

Taylor had just come in from a long walk on the beach when there was a knock on the door. She opened it to find the visitor she had been expecting.

"James, you're early!" she exclaimed, smiling at her old friend.

"Of course", Dr James Warwick replied, shaking Taylor's hand warmly. "It is always a pleasure to see you. How are you these days - it's been some time, hasn't it?"

"Too long", Taylor agreed. "I am fine, thank you. The practice is going well, although I have taken a step back and don't have that many clients anymore. How are you?"

"Oh, I am doing well. I have rather few clients now, but that is as it should be. It is time for me to pass the torch on to the young generation, isn't it?"

"That's right!" Taylor exclaimed. "Your daughter studies psychiatry as well, doesn't she? In England, right?"

"Indeed she does", James said proudly, "and even though I may not be completely unbiased, I have to say she is excelling at it, too! She has a true gift for understanding the mind."

"I am glad to hear it", Taylor said warmly. "You know, we were all a bit concerned about Mary, given the way she grew up…"

"Yes", James said gravely, "having Sheila as a mother was far from ideal. And Mary did need a lot of counseling after that horrible thing that happened. Well, of course you know better than anyone…"

"I am lucky to be alive", Taylor said. "Thank God that is all behind us now."

"That is truly something to be thankful for", James mused. "And I am so proud of the woman my daughter has become. She is my greatest joy."

"I am sure that's how every good father feels about his children", Taylor answered, smiling. "Which brings me to why I asked you to come over. It's about Thorne. Thorne and Alexandria."

"Oh, that's right, you told me the last time we spoke that you were involved with him", James remembered. "So, how can I help you?"

"It's not really I who need your help", Taylor explained. "It's Alexandria. She is still very upset about her mother's death and won't open up to me or Thorne. She blames me for what happened to Darla, maybe that isn't so surprising, but it really isn't good for her to be harboring all this resentment and anger. And I have to admit it makes it very difficult for Thorne and me as well. We want to plan our future together, but it feels like we are putting our lives on hold because of this."

"The two of you are really that serious, then?" James asked, looking thoughtfully at his friend.

Taylor laughed.

"Of course we are, James. What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing", James said apologetically. "It's just that for as long as I've known you, you have been in love with Ridge."

"Well", Taylor said shrugging, "I have come to terms with the fact that he obviously didn't feel the same way. At least not strongly enough to put me first. Above all others. Above…"

"Above Brooke." James nodded.

"So", Taylor said quickly, "will you do it? Will you talk to Alexandria?"

"Of course", James said, "it if will be of any help."

The phone rang. Seeing it was Thorne, Taylor excused herself and went into the bedroom to talk in private.

"Taylor, you won't believe what just happened at Forrester!" Thorne exclaimed.

"What?" Taylor asked, sensing that whatever it was, it was some kind of big news.

"Thomas and Steffy have done it!" Thorne said. "They have taken over the company. They are now CEO and president of Forrester Creations!"

A stunned silence followed before Taylor replied the first thing that came into her mind:

"Oh my God. This must be killing Ridge!"

* * *

Barbara finally decided it was time to get out of bed. She had been putting it off long enough now, hoping in vain that waiting would make it easier. Her head was pounding and there was a faint taste of blood in her mouth as she made her way to the bathroom. Bracing herself, as she always did, she plucked up the courage to look at her own reflection in the mirror.

It was the wrong face.

It was always the wrong face. The fact that she looked worse than usual now, with a bruised cheek and a swollen upper lip, had only very little to do with that feeling. Maybe it was the age that was wrong, she thought, observing all the tiny wrinkles that she felt shouldn't be there, not yet. Scrutinizing herself more closely, she found a couple of grey hairs hiding among the normal brown ones and quickly pulled them out.

"You look like something the cat dragged in", she told her reflection and it looked back at her in silent agreement.

As she washed and brushed her teeth (an unusually painful procedure today), she tried to make sense of what had happened the day before. Luigi had hit her again… why? It was that girl, Laura. Why wouldn't the child just leave, go back to wherever she came from? Didn't she see that this place was poison, that nothing good could ever come of staying here? Was she really willing to sell her soul for a couple of dollars and a roof over her head? Or was she just too young to realize that was what she was doing?

"I'll talk to her again", Barbara decided. "Maybe I can still reason with her, before it is too late."

Having made that resolution, she went back to her room to get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on Laura's door, carrying a wooden chair. The girl opened reluctantly after a short delay.

"I noticed yesterday you didn't have a chair in here, so I brought one of mine", Barbara began, almost apologetically.

"Thanks", Laura said.

Barbara put the chair down on the floor, but remained standing.

"Also, you came to talk to me", Laura deduced. "Right?"

The woman closed the door behind her and sat down on the chair with a sigh.

"Yes", she admitted. "Laura…"

"This is a bad place. I should leave. I should be a good girl, go to school, do my homework and stay out of trouble", Laura recited. "Is that it?"

"Pretty much", Barbara said. "But I really mean it. Especially after yesterday…"

"You okay?" Laura interrupted, pointing at the other's face. "That looks like it hurts."

"I'm fine", Barbara answered, trying to smile. "Are you?"

"I'll be okay", Laura interrupted. "It was okay."

The girl turned away. Barbara's eyes widened.

"So you…" she said, unable to finish the sentence.

Laura nodded, biting her lip.

"After you left."

Sensing how disturbed Barbara was by the idea, Laura tried to make light of it.

"It's no big deal, really", the girl said in a tone of voice that was meant to be humorous. "Actually, I see it as an improvement. At least now, I'm getting paid for my services. And the hours are not too bad."

"Laura, stop it!" Barbara snapped, taken aback.

"I'm sorry, did I shock you?" Laura said, raising an eyebrow ironically. "What I mean is, you seem to think that I can just go back where I came from and everything will be perfect. Well, it wasn't like that. For as long as I can remember, I have moved from one foster family to another. And the one I just left was the worst of them."

"What about your real family?"

"I never knew them. I don't know anything about my father. All I know about my mother is that she was some kind of criminal. She had to give me up because she was sent to prison. I don't know what she did to end up there, but I guess it must have been pretty serious, because I never heard from her since. Or maybe she just didn't care and forgot all about me."

Barbara shook her head.

"I don't believe that", she said with conviction. "Once a mother, always a mother. I'm sure your mom thinks about you a lot. And she would probably make contact with you, if she only could."

"Maybe", Laura said, shrugging. "it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

But later, when she was alone again, Laura had to admit to herself that it did matter. It mattered a great deal.


	5. Chapter V: Musical Interludes

**Chapter V: Musical Interludes**

"Hello, Alexandria. I'm James."

Alexandria Forrester and James Warwick were sitting in opposite armchairs by the living room table in Thorne's beach house. Thorne had decided that it would probably be better for Alexandria to have this counseling session in an environment where she felt comfortable, and he had gone out to run some errands in order to give his daughter and the doctor some privacy.

"Hello, James", Alexandria said politely. "Nice to meet you."

"Do you know anything about me?" James asked.

"Dad said you are a doctor", Alexandria replied. "He said you are here to talk to me, to make me feel better. But I don't feel sick."

"I am not that kind of doctor. I am a psychiatrist. That is to say, I counsel people who have gone through difficult experiences in life, for example."

"Oh", Alexandria said, thinking for a moment. "So this is about Mom."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. It's not like it's going to change anything if I do."

"It might change how you feel inside", James suggested.

"Nothing is going to change that", Alexandria answered with conviction. "Not if you mean how I feel about Dad and Taylor. Is that why you are here? To persuade me to accept their relationship?"

"I am not going to make you do or think anything that you don't want to. So, you do not approve of your father's… friendship with Taylor?"

"I wouldn't mind if they were just friends", Alexandria said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I just don't want her in my family."

"Because of what happened to your mother?" James asked.

"I don't know. I guess that's part of it. I'm sure you've heard the story, so you know I'm not just making it up. The accident actually was Taylor's fault. But really, I just don't like her as a person. And I can't understand how Dad could be in love with her. I mean… she is so not his type!"

"Why do you think so?" James asked.

"She is boring", Alexandria mused. "All she ever does is look at you as if you were some kind of problem she's trying to solve. She has no sense of humor, she believes everything is dead serious and if you tell her a joke she just goes all analytical and tries to 'understand' you or figure out what you meant by saying that, instead of laughing. I don't know how Dad can stand it. I mean, he's this really funny guy. He's goofy and he has all these silly crazy ideas. And he thinks of me as a person, not a patient. There's nothing wrong with me just because I don't like who my dad's dating."

"Of course not", James agreed. "But is this about you not liking Taylor specifically, or would you feel the same regardless of whom your father was seeing?"

"It would depend on the woman, of course", Alexandria said. "She would have to be… I don't know, a good match for him. A good match for our family. Someone who would let him just relax and be himself. He is not like that with Taylor, with her he is always 'behaving'. I know him, so I can see the difference. He is like another person whenever she is around. It was never like that with… with Mom."

"So you remember that?" James asked.

"I was really young, so I don't have that many memories of her. But I do remember the feeling. I remember that we laughed a lot and hugged a lot. We were really happy. And Dad and I are still like that when we are alone."

"Would you prefer that it was just the two of you in the future as well?"

"I don't really need a new mother", Alexandria said thoughtfully. "At least not one who… who tries too hard to take my real mother's place. Does that sound weird?"

James shook his head.

"Not in the least. It's perfectly understandable."

The front door opened and Thorne stepped inside, carrying two bags of groceries. Seeing that Alexandria and James seemed to be in the middle of their conversation, he stopped.

"Oh, I'm sorry", he said apologetically, "I can take a walk on the beach and come back later if you're not done yet."

"Yeah, except for the fact that you've got ice cream in one of those bags", Alexandria observed. "So I think that settles it, right?"

Thorne threw an inquisitive glance at James. The latter nodded in agreement.

"I think we have finished for today", he said.

"Oh, good!" Alexandria said, jumping out of her armchair. "Dad, I was just telling Dr Warwick all about your love life, as it is and as it should be. I hope that's okay with you."

"Ally, what have you…" Thorne laughed.

"My lips are sealed", Alexandria interrupted. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, isn't that right?"

Dr Warwick nodded, amused. Then, with a polite nod to the two of them, he left.

"So", Thorne resumed while he was putting away the groceries, "was it all right? Your session, I mean."

"James seems like a nice guy", Alexandria said. "But there really wasn't that much to talk about. Hey, didn't you promise you'd teach me how to play the piano?"

Thorne looked up. It was not unusual for Alexandria to change the subject abruptly when she was uncomfortable talking about something. For now, he decided not to pursue the issue.

"I did promise you that in a moment of weakness, didn't I?" Thorne said, walking over to the brand new keyboard that was standing in the middle of the living room. "Now, you have to remember it's been a very long time since I played one of these."

"Excuses, excuses!" Alexandria said. "What shall we play?"

Thorne reflected for a moment. Then he remembered that he actually had a large box of sheet music stored away somewhere in the spare room above the garage among a lot of other things, half of which he didn't even know what they were. After he mentioned this to Alexandria, she enthusiastically suggested that they go on a treasure hunt to find some music to play.

The search was successful almost immediately. Having a vague memory of where he had put the box, Thorne found it quite easily, and since he knew his daughter had a preference for musicals, he took out a collection of songs from Grease.

They returned to the living room and sat down at the keyboard. Slowly, Thorne started helping his daughter find the chords. She had a good ear for music and was a quick learner, and Thorne made a mental note that he might need to find her a proper piano teacher in the future.

Suddenly, a piece of paper fell out from between the pages of the song book. Alexandria was the first to discover it and picked it up from the floor. It was an old yellowed newspaper clipping. She started reading it out loud.

"'Thorne Forrester to star in Broadway musical Grease'" she read. "Dad, what in the world…"

"Give me that!" Thorne said with an embarrassed laugh and reached out for the clipping.

"No way!" Alexandria cried and pulled it away from him. "I don't believe this! 'Singing sensation Thorne Forrester, who recently had a breakthrough with his first album and a very successful tour in Europe, is back on stage. He will be joining the cast of the Broadway production of Grease, starring in the lead role as Danny Zuko…' Dad, is this true? You were, like, a famous singer?"

"I don't know about the famous part", Thorne said humbly, "but yes, for a short period many years ago, I did have a singing career."

"Wow…" Alexandria stared at her father in awe. "That is so cool! You never told me any of this before!"

"No, like I said, it was a very long time ago, and only for a short while…"

"So why did you stop?" Alexandria asked. "Were you homesick for Forrester Creations' ugliest office ever? Did you get bad reviews? What?"

"Me? Bad reviews?" Thorne answered with mock indignation. "Move over, little girl, and let me show you how it's done!"

Thorne ran his fingers through his hair, pulled up the collar of an imaginary leather jacket, made a couple of outrageous dance moves and started singing an over-the-top rendition of "Greased Lightning" while accompanying himself on the keyboard. Alexandria stared at her father in complete and utter amazement. This was a side of him that she had never seen, one that she didn't even know existed. When he had finished the song, she burst into loud and enthusiastic applause.

"Dad, that was awesome!" she cheered. "I had no idea you could sing like that. You do realize that you just became my new hero, right?"

"What, I wasn't already?" Thorne joked.

"Seriously, though", Alexandria said, "why did you give up singing?"

"I don't know…" Thorne said evasively. "I was not the same person back then as I am now. My life was different. The times were different.

"They must have been good times!" Alexandria concluded.

Thorne was silent for a moment. Then he answered slowly, with a thoughtful, dreaming look in his eyes:

"Yes, they _were_ good times…"

* * *

The nightclub was almost full tonight. Taking a short break, Laura and one of the waitresses going by the name of Pearl (it was the one who had spoken to Laura on the night she first came to the club) stood at the bar watching the crowd. Pearl pointed out some of the regulars to Laura, indicating which ones were what she called "good customers" and which ones should be avoided.

"Of course", Pearl admitted, "I'd take any job over this, if I could get one. But I really need the money."

Barbara walked up to the bar and joined the conversation. Her face was almost healed and what little bruising was left could easily be covered by makeup. As she was performing tonight, she was wearing one of her best dresses.

""Bob, one Bloody Mary, please!" she ordered. "What are you two ladies talking about?"

"Work", Pearl said, "what else?"

"Did you get that job you applied for last week?" Barbara asked.

"No such luck", Pearl said. "I guess I didn't have the appropriate college degree to clean hotel rooms. Kid, you should finish school, go to college, that way you'd get a decent job."

Pearl nodded at Laura and threw her a significant look. Barbara shook her head silently, indicating to the other woman that she had already tried that route and that it was a lost cause.

"I'm not really all that into books", Laura said defensively. "But I don't plan on staying here for very long."

"So what will you do?" Pearl inquired.

"I'll save some money", Laura said. "Then I'm out of this God-forsaken place. I'm going to Hollywood!"

Pearl laughed. Barbara merely looked at the girl with raised eyebrows. Even the bartender Bob had taken an interest in the conversation and was offering his two cents.

"You're planning on getting a big break, huh?" he asked. "Doing what exactly?"

"I think I would be a good actress", Laura said. "Or maybe a model, I don't know. Don't you think I could do it? My looks are not too bad, I think. And I guess I can learn a lot about playing different roles just by watching the people here."

"Speaking of watching people", Barbara said, "the bass player is giving me the evil eye just about now, so I'd better get on stage. I'll see you later."

"Hey Barbara", Laura said, "you could come with me to LA when I leave! I'll act, and you could sing…"

"And I can tap-dance and crack my knuckles!" Pearl filled in.

Barbara smiled and left the bar, taking the Bloody Mary with her. She went over to the stage and adjusted her microphone stand, speaking a few words to the band as she did so. Then they played a short intro, and Barbara began singing an old song by Billie Holiday:

_"Them that's got shall get,_  
_Them that's not shall lose,_  
_So the Bible said and it still is news_  
_Mama may have,_  
_Papa may have,_  
_But God bless the child who's got his own…"_

"She's really good", Laura commented in an aside to Pearl. "I had no idea."

"That's funny", Pearl replied.

"Why?"

"Because you already heard her singing once before. She was on stage all evening when you first arrived here."

"Oh", Laura said, feeling a bit guilty. "I never noticed. I guess I had other things on my mind that day."

"Most people don't exactly come here to enjoy the music", Pearl said ironically. "It's quite a pity, though. Barbie has a great voice. And the bass player in the band is a real professional, he has studied music and everything. But I guess it's not that easy to get a good gig these days."

They listened in silence for a while. Then Pearl continued her previous trail of thought.

"In a way, it's sad", she said. "There is actually a lot of talent going to waste in a place like this. I mean, many of the girls here, they're really clever. And even our friend Bob has hidden abilities…"

"Like what?" Bob laughed, again overhearing part of the conversation.

"Well, you're good with numbers", Pearl said appreciatively, "and you are still unbeaten at darts."

"So what's your secret talent, sweetie?" Bob retorted.

"I already told you", Pearl smiled, "I actually do know how to tap dance. And I'm also a very good cook. In fact, I should bake my special pie for you one of these days. My grandmother's recipe. Although I've kind of reinvented it."

"I'll hold you to that", Bob said, grinning.

Meanwhile, Barbara finished singing the final notes of the song. Her performance was met with scattered half-hearted applause from a few of the inebriated guests at the bar and the poker tables. Laura demonstratively clapped her hands loudly and made a point of cheering extra enthusiastically. Pearl and Bob followed her example. Noticing them, Barbara looked their way and smiled gratefully. She then resumed her singing with renewed energy. It was nice to know that, for a change, someone was actually listening.


	6. Chapter VI: A New Life

**Chapter VI: A New Life**

Thorne was sitting at his desk. The past few weeks since the takeover had been hectic and his phone had been ringing off the hook ever since word got out about Thomas and Steffy being in charge of Forrester. Usually, his standard reply was "no comments", but sometimes he had been forced to calm down a worried buyer or distributor. He sighed. The paper work had been piling up lately, and he would have to work late again tonight. And for what?

The thought had hit him many times before, but this time it came with unexpected intensity. He had been sitting here in the basement since long before Thomas and Steffy were born, and now he was working for them. He didn't know how he felt about that - was it better or worse than working for his brother? And was it really true that he had the ugliest office in all of Forrester Creations? Thorne took a good look around him and concluded that yes, it was probably true. He didn't even have the privacy of good solid walls, instead the only thing preventing the seamstresses from looking right into his filing cabinet were some old blinds. It was far from ideal.

A feeling of hopelessness came over him. All his life, he had worked in the family business, and what had been his reward? So far, nothing. And that nothing was his legacy to Alexandria. Yet, here he was again, the one point of stability in a company that was constantly shaken by internal power struggles. It was no wonder that whenever there was some new drama, every single one of Forrester's business contacts turned to him for reassurance, as did the employees down in the basement. Whatever happened up there on the executive floor, things down here had to stay the same, he thought. Too many people depended on Forrester to provide for their families, and even if the CEO, the president, the designers and the head of PR could easily forget that fact, Thorne couldn't.

Turning over a few more papers, Thorne discovered a fabric sample for one of Ridge's designs. Seeing that no order had been placed, he realized that Ridge hadn't given his approval yet since he had been out of town, and that his signature was needed before the design could be put into production. Thorne decided to bring the sample to his brother right away, so there wouldn't be any further delay.

As he approached Ridge's office, Thorne nearly bumped into Brooke, who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Brooke, have you seen Ridge?" Thorne asked, assuming she had come from his office.

"No… no", Brooke said, looking confused. "I didn't get a chance."

She looked back at Ridge's office door, which was ajar. Thorne followed her gaze.

"He's not in there?" he asked.

"Oh, yes he is", Brooke replied. "But he's not alone. He' s with Taylor."

Thorne walked quickly past Brooke and approached Ridge's office. He didn't really like to admit it, but whenever Taylor and Ridge were together, part of him felt uncomfortable. He knew that Taylor had moved on with him and they were happy together, but with Ridge and Taylor's long history, he knew that part of her would always love the father of her children. And even though Thorne kept telling himself he was okay with that, sometimes that old feeling of being in his brother's shadow resurfaced. So it was with a certain uneasiness that he reached the doorway and looked into his brother's office.

Ridge and Taylor were talking with subdued voices.

"I understand how hard this must be for you, Ridge", Taylor said with concern in her voice. "But I don't want this to come between you and the children. You probably see this as a betrayal, but I'm sure that was never their intention."

"They voted me out of my own company", Ridge remarked, "how else am I going to see it?"

"I know, Ridge", Taylor replied, "and I'm sure they don't really see what this is doing to you. But I do. And I will talk to them. In fact, I think we should all sit down and talk about this. You know, part of me is really proud of our children coming into their own in the company, but I don't want it to be at your expense."

"Of course not", Ridge said with a smile, "you have always supported me, Doc. I know I can trust you, and you have no idea what that means to me."

He stroked her hair gently. Taylor looked into his eyes calmly and smiled back at him.

It was innocent enough, Thorne told himself. But there had been something in Taylor's face when she looked at Ridge - a vulnerability, a certain bittersweet sadness… and also, there had been something else. Something that was never there when she looked at Thorne. A connection that went beyond words. Suddenly, Thorne realized why Brooke had been in such a hurry to leave. Because she had seen what he had seen, and drawn the same conclusion.

There was nothing going on between Ridge and Taylor.

But there didn't need to be.

* * *

Pearl threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture and looked at Bob.

"It's useless", she said. "She won't come down. I'm not going up there again."

"What's that?" Barbara asked, coming out of the small kitchen where she had been having a quick dinner. The club would be opening shortly.

"Your little neighbor upstairs", Pearl explained, pointing significantly upwards. "She has locked herself in the room and refuses to open the door. Says she's sick."

"So maybe she's sick", Barbara suggested.

"Well, the boss won't like it", Pearl said, shaking his head. "He doesn't really allow for sick leave, not as long as you are able to stand on your two feet, anyway. And if we don't get her out of that room and down the stairs right now, he's gonna take it out on us."

"I'll go and check on her", Barbara volunteered.

At first, there was no reply when she knocked on Laura's door. But when she didn't give up, she heard a faint moaning from inside the room.

"Go away, I'm sick!"

"Laura", Barbara tried, "it's me, I just wanted to see if you're all right."

"I'm not", Laura replied. "I think I'm coming down with something. I'm really tired and I just want to sleep. Could you please leave me alone?"

"Can I get you anything?"

"Do you have, like, an antacid or something? I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"Sure", Barbara said. "Just a minute."

Barbara went across the corridor to her own room. She opened the drawer in her bedside table. It contained a small assortment of over-the-counter remedies, and a wide variety of liquor bottles, most of them empty. Rummaging through them, she finally found what she was looking for and returned to Laura's door. The girl had opened it and was standing in the doorway looking quite pale. Barbara gave her the antacids with a concerned look.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked. "Did you eat anything today?"

"I couldn't", Laura admitted. "Look, I really don't want to bother you, and I don't want you to catch whatever it is I'm having, so…"

She stopped abruptly. A sudden dizzy spell had come over her and she had to sit down on the bed. Barbara threw her a worried glance.

"Laura", she inquired, "how long have you been feeling like this?"

Laura thought for a while.

"Well", she finally answered, "actually I remember feeling a little tired and queasy from time to time even before I came here, but it's been getting worse lately. And today when I woke up…"

"So you felt it this morning, too?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, in fact I've been feeling it for the past few mornings. But it usually gets better if I manage to eat."

"I just had dinner", Barbara said. "If you like, I could go downstairs and see if there's anything left for you."

"Thanks, that would be nice", Laura said, smiling. "But don't make a big deal out of this, okay?"

Barbara went downstairs and into the kitchen. There, she discovered that Bob had already eaten what was left of the food she had prepared. Reluctantly, she realized she would have to go to the grocery store to get something for Laura to eat. There wasn't much time, though, because once the club opened she would be busy, as she was performing tonight.

Grabbing her jacket, she went outside. As she hurried to the grocery store, she passed a pharmacy. She went in to buy a new bottle of antacids, as she had just given Laura her last ones, but as she was browsing the shelves she found something else. Pregnancy tests. Debating with herself whether or not to purchase one, she finally decided that it couldn't hurt, and took a test from the shelf.

Then she proceeded to the grocery store as planned. Not knowing what Laura might be able to eat, she picked a ready-made meal at random and proceeded to the exit. But as she was standing in line waiting to pay, something caught her eye.

It was today's newspaper. On the front page, there was a small photo and the caption "Teenage girl missing". Barbara looked at the photo more closely. There was no mistaking it - the girl in the picture was Laura! Her heart beating faster, Barbara decided to buy a copy of the newspaper as well. She then rushed back to the nightclub, hoping that nobody would have noticed her absence, especially not Luigi. He didn't like it when she went out on her own.

When Laura a while later let Barbara into her room, she noticed that the woman seemed strangely preoccupied. She asked about it, and instead of replying, Barbara handed her a meal in a plastic package and a bottle of antacids. Then, after some hesitation, the woman said, reaching into her bag:

"And I also bought these."

She took out the home pregnancy test and the newspaper and placed them on the bed. Laura, seeing first her own picture, stared at Barbara with fear.

"They are looking for me", she whispered. "You are not… you are not going to the police, are you?"

"I don't know what to think", Barbara said. "According to this newspaper, your family is worried sick about you."

"They would say that", Laura said bitterly. Then, picking up the pregnancy test and turning it over in her hands, she asked:

"What is this? Do you really think…?"

"I have no idea", Barbara said. "But it might be good to rule out the possibility."

Laura shrugged. Reading the instructions, she rose and went down the corridor to the bathroom. Of course, she thought, this was ridiculous. She was not even fourteen, she could not possibly be having a child!

But when she took the test a few minutes later, it was unambiguously positive.

She guessed Barbara must have seen it on her face the moment she returned to the room, because the woman couldn't stop a spontaneous exclamation of "Oh, my God!" Laura started laughing nervously.

"I'm having a baby", she said. "How crazy is that?

But when she sat down on the bed, she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. Barbara put a protective arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Now you see that you really need to be with your family", she said softly.

Laura pushed her away violently.

"My family?" she cried with bitterness. "You mean the ones who go to the newspapers and tell a sob story about the disappearance of their darling little girl…"

"Well, it seemed in the article like your foster father is really terribly worried about you", Barbara objected.

"Oh really?!" Laura almost screamed, waving the pregnancy test in front of Barbara's face. "Then how do you think I ended up like this?"

Barbara stared at the girl. She was at a loss for words. What Laura had just told her was too horrible, too unthinkable.

"Laura…" she began feebly.

"It's all right", Laura said blankly. "You don't have to call me that anymore. I'm sure you've already read my real name in the article."

"Yes, I have", Barbara said. "Diana."

"Please, don't tell anyone else", the young girl pleaded, "and don't make me go back there!"

Barbara put her arm around the girl again.

"I won't", she promised. "I'm here, I'll help you. You're not alone."

Diana said nothing, but allowed herself to be hugged. She suddenly seemed very young and childlike, far from the tough independent image of herself she usually tried to display.

"Barbara?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid."


	7. Chapter VII: Visions of the Future

**Chapter VII: Visions of the Future**

"Taylor? Hi, it's me."

Thorne's voice sounded excited on the phone.

"I know this is short notice", he continued, "but I have made reservations for us tonight at this lovely new French restaurant. What do you say? It's been a while since we had a romantic dinner, just the two of us."

Taylor hesitated.

"I'm sorry, Thorne, but I can't tonight", she said regretfully. "I'm having Ridge and the kids over for dinner. After all that's happened at Forrester, I really think it's important for the three of them to just sit down and clear the air. I don't want Thomas and Steffy to lose their relationship with their father over this. And I think the best way to solve the problem is having them come to my place. It's neutral, and I think my presence may help prevent things from getting out of hand."

"I understand", Thorne said, trying to hide his disappointment. "Some other time, then."

"Oh, absolutely!" Taylor said. "A French restaurant, that sounds lovely!"

"I'll talk to you later, then", Thorne concluded.

After he had hung up, he couldn't shake a feeling of jealousy. Taylor was spending the evening with Ridge, and he was here at home, alone. Alexandria was having a sleepover at her classmate Hannah's house.

How many times had he been in this position? How many times had he found himself in love with a woman whose heart, or at the very least part of it, belonged to his brother? Caroline, his first wife, had been one of those women. Brooke - most definitely. And now it seemed the same thing might be happening with Taylor.

"I don't know why I'm surprised", Thorne told himself, "I've been through this before. Even with Taylor. It's the story of my life."

He remembered how he had once sent Macy divorce papers by fax in order to be able to propose to Taylor, only to have his marriage proposal turned down, since Taylor was still in love with Ridge. How ironic it had been! Ironic, he thought, and tragic. Because Macy had been one of the few people who had actually loved him for himself. She had watched from the sidelines while he had pursued his brother's women. And when those doomed relationships had ended, as they were bound to, he had come to her and she had always been there to pick up the pieces. Until he had betrayed her one too many times, this time with her best friend Darla. Alexandria's mother. Now there was another ironic twist of fate! That one night, which at the time he felt was the biggest mistake of his life, had given him his precious daughter, his greatest pride and joy.

"Dad, I'm home!" Alexandria's cheerful voice called out.

"Ally!" Thorne said, surprised. "I didn't expect you home tonight. I thought you were at Hannah's."

"I was", she answered. "But Hannah wasn't feeling too well, so I had to go home."

"You could have called", Thorne pointed out. "I'd have come by and picked you up."

"It's okay, Dad", Alexandria said, smiling indulgently. "I'm a big girl, I took a cab. So, did you eat already?"

Thorne shook his head.

"No, actually, I was going to ask Taylor out for dinner, but she turned me down."

"Oh, good!" Alexandria exclaimed. "Then you can spend some quality time your daughter instead. Let's go to Dayzee's!"

Dayzee's was a favorite spot of Alexandria's. The food was simple but good, she liked the atmosphere in the small coffee house, and of course, Dayzee was virtually family. Thorne and Alexandria drove over there without further ado, and ordered their usual - pasta with Dayzee's home-made spicy tomato sauce. Dayzee, not having too much to do this evening, joined them at their table.

"Haven't seen you guys in quite a while", she noted. "Actually, not since Christmas."

"Dad's been busy", Alexandria explained. "If it were up to me, we'd go here a lot more often."

"Smart kid", Dayzee joked. "Excuse me one minute."

Dayzee had just spotted Anthony entering the coffee house. She hurried up to him.

"Anthony!" she said anxiously, "I was starting to worry about you. Where have you been lately?"

"I have had a lot on my mind", Anthony said evasively.

"Well, come sit with us, won't you?" Daysee suggested, pointing at the table where Thorne and Alexandria were eating their pasta.

Anthony agreed reluctantly. The frightening vision from the Christmas party still haunted him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere in the not too distant future, tragedy was waiting to strike in the Forrester family.

"Hello Anthony", Thorne said cheerfully. "You look a bit shaken, is everything all right?"

Anthony nodded. He looked at Thorne and his daughter - they looked so happy and carefree tonight. Did that strange premonition somehow involve them? He prayed that it did not.

Seeing that Anthony was uncomfortable, Dayzee tried to lighten up the mood.

"So, Ally", she said, "what have you been up to today?"

"I was at Hannah's", the girl replied.

"Well, did you have fun there?" Dayzee asked.

"Yeah", Ally said. "We played this game where you think of a person, and the other ones have to guess who you were thinking of, but they can only ask questions that can be answered with yes or no."

"Okay", Thorne said, "who am I thinking about?"

"Me?" Ally suggested jokingly.

"I always think of you. But it's the wrong answer."

"Is it a woman?" Dayzee tried.

"No".

"So it's a man?" she continued.

"You think?" Alexandria said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's a man", Thorne admitted.

"Anthony, why don't you try?" Dayzee suggested, then said to Alexandria: "He ought to be really good at this, he's a psychic."

Alexandria stared at the large man.

"No way!" she said incredulously.

Anthony looked uncomfortable, but realized he could not escape the situation.

"Go on, Anthony!" Dayzee urged.

"All right…" he said, shrugging. "What, Elvis Presley?"

Thorne stared at him in disbelief. He had been right. Alexandria cried excitedly:

"That was great, how did you do that? You should try to read his fortune too!"

Anthony shook his head.

"No, I don't do that anymore" he said.

"Since when?" Dayzee said. "Come on, Anthony!"

Reluctantly, Anthony took Thorne's hand in both of his and closed his eyes. Immediately, an acute sense of foreboding came over him. He wanted to stop, but kept going in the hope that if he found out more about whatever danger was threatening the Forresters, he might be able to do something, anything, to avert it.

"So, can you see if Thorne and Taylor will finally make it official this year?" Dayzee joked.

"Romance!" Anthony snapped. "Is it all you people think about? No, I don't see anything about Thorne and Taylor."

"Too bad, Dad!" Alexandria said in a gleeful voice. "Seems like your love life won't improve anytime soon."

"I wouldn't say that", Anthony objected. "I do see a woman in Thorne's future. But it's not Taylor."

"Who then?" Thorne said, starting to become interested although part of him wondered why he allowed himself to go along with this nonsense.

"I don't know!" Anthony said abruptly, letting go of Thorne's hand. "I am tired, this session is over."

Because what he had said was true as far as it went. He had actually seen a woman coming into Thorne's life - a woman he didn't recognize but whose face he knew he would never forget. But he had the feeling she was somehow tied to the danger he had sensed, maybe even the cause of it. Then the old frightening vision had returned, even stronger than before. He had seen a beautifully furnished room filled with people, heard that loud bang and then complete silence. Thorne and the unknown woman would be there. And both of them would die.

* * *

Taylor, Ridge, Steffy and Thomas were sitting around the dining table in Taylor's beach house. They had just finished dessert and had up to this moment avoided discussing the issue that was on their minds. But now, Taylor decided it was time.

"Thomas, Steffy", she began, "you know your father was very upset by the way the two of you handled things at Forrester."

"Mom, I get it", Steffy said, "but we really didn't mean to hurt anybody. We just want our chance to make a mark in this business. And I think Thomas's ideas about reaching the younger generation are just great. I think this will be a big success and benefit all of us, including you, Dad."

"So, out with the old and in with the new, is that it?" Ridge said pointedly.

"Dad, I think you of all people would understand", Thomas tried. "I mean, isn't that how you felt when you took over after Grandpa?"

"That was different, Thomas. I had a lot more experience. And some day, I would be proud to see you or Steffy run this company. But not now. Look, you've made your points and you have some good ideas, and we could definitely use them, but you have to understand that the company is better off in my hands."

"I'm sorry, Dad", Thomas said, "I disagree. This is our time."

"So you are not going to change the decision?" Ridge asked, trying to restrain his anger. "Is that it, huh?"

"Yes."

"In that case", Ridge said, "I have nothing more to say to you."

He rose abruptly and rushed outside, slamming the door shut as he left. Taylor rushed after him.

"Ridge", she pleaded, "don't leave, not like this!"

"What do you want me to say, Doc? My own children have stabbed me in the back!"

Ridge was furious.

"I know that is how you must be feeling", Taylor said in a calm, professional voice, "but refusing to talk to them won't solve anything."

"Talking to them obviously won't solve anything, either."

"They'll come around", Taylor said soothingly. "You'll see. And maybe some day in the future, when all of you feel the time is right, they can take over the company, with your blessing."

"Oh Doc", Ridge said smiling, "if everyone reasoned like you, the world would be a better place."

"I just hate to see you so upset. I know you are already feeling betrayed by Brooke because she wasn't completely honest with you about Deacon."

Ridge nodded.

"You know, it may seem trivial", he said thoughtfully. "But after all these years, I've forgiven her for every stupid thoughtless thing she has ever done. And I've always made excuses for her by thinking 'that's my Logan', sometimes almost finding that unpredictability part of her charm. I guess this was just the final straw, because it made me realize she will never learn. A life with her would be a life of constantly wondering when the next 'mistake' would happen. And I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm too old for this. I don't want to live like that.

Taylor listened without replying.

"It was never like that with us, was it?" Ridge asked.

Taylor still didn't speak, but found it hard to meet Ridge's gaze.

"You'd better leave", she finally said, in an attempt to hide her confusion.

So he left, leaving his ex-wife to her thoughts.

* * *

It was past midnight. Diana was sitting on her bed in the dark, unable to sleep. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, her mind had been racing. She had never felt so scared and lonely in her life. And yet, that was the frightening part - she wasn't alone. There was this small _someone_ inside her, this creature she didn't know and who was both part of her and separate from her. For some reason, she came to think of the movie Alien.

Sometimes, she wished it would all just go away. She would go to bed at night and wish that when she woke up, she would find it had been a dream. But every morning, the well-known nausea reminded her of the truth. And it made her panic. She felt trapped in her own body, and didn't know what to feel about the one who was trapped there with her.

What if she decided to have an abortion? She wouldn't even know where to go, who to contact. But she wasn't even sure if that was really what she wanted. For one thing, she had a vague idea that the baby might come back to haunt her if she decided to kill him. Besides, she felt sorry for him. She if anyone should know what it was like not to be wanted. None of her foster parents had ever seemed to get along with her. They had all seemed only too relieved to get rid of her. She never knew why - maybe she was a difficult child, or maybe it had something to do with her mother. From what little Diana had found out through stray remarks and whispered conversations she was not meant to overhear, her mother had not been a good person. On one occasion, she had actually heard someone mention the word "evil". Was it true? Could a person really be evil? And, if so, had she inherited it? Would she pass it on to her child?

Diana didn't know where to turn with all these thoughts and fears. The only person who knew about her pregnancy was Barbara, and she had only found out by chance. Actually, she was the one who had suspected it first. In a place like this, it had probably happened to several other girls.

But Barbara would be asleep by now. And since Luigi was sleeping in the same room, Diana didn't dare try to wake her up. Besides, she wasn't sure whether she could trust Barbara completely. The woman had insisted from the start that Diana should go back home and not stay in the nightclub. After she found out who the father of Diana's baby was, she had stopped pushing the issue, but she had nevertheless hinted on more than one occasion that going to the police might not be a bad idea. Diana had explained that the police wouldn't believe her, that they would just send her back to her foster parents without listening to her story, but she wasn't sure if she had really got through to Barbara. Sometimes it seemed like the woman, despite being much older than Diana, was unfamiliar with some of the hard facts of life that the young girl had had to learn early on. Like the fact that running away and being sent back home usually meant getting beaten up by the "worried family" on your arrival. Or the fact that a foster father might take full advantage of not being blood related to his foster daughter, and everyone else would just turn a blind eye.

"Now, it's just you and me, kid" she said aloud, putting a hand on her belly where she assumed the baby might be. "So, what do you suggest we do? Huh?"

It was the first time Diana had actually talked to her child, or pretended to. It had happened quite spontaneously and she was surprised when she realized what she had just done. But strangely enough, it had felt good. She continued.

"Look, I'm no good at this", she said softly, "I'm really just a kid myself, and I'm sure if you could choose you'd pick anyone but me for a mother. But this is the way it is. It's not my fault, and it's not your fault either. I just don't know if I can do this. I'm sorry."

Diana looked at her belly, half expecting the little person inside to answer.

"Maybe he's asleep too", she thought.

And at that point, she felt a wave of warmth running through her whole body. She could picture him now - sleeping soundly in the darkness inside her, surrounded by the sound of her heartbeat and her voice. Maybe he had eyes already? Or toes? Or a tail? She had seen pictures of fetuses in the womb where it actually looked like they had tails. But if so, that would disappear before he was born.

Because that was the way it was going to be. She didn't know how she had come to the decision - maybe it wasn't a decision at all as much as a sudden knowledge.

He would be born.


	8. Chapter VIII: Bold Plans

**Chapter VIII: Bold Plans**

Rick hung up the phone. He had just spoken with his father, and the conversation had only confirmed his suspicions - Eric wasn't coping too well with Stephanie's death. He had appeared distraught and had no interest in what was going on, in the family or in the company. A while ago, it had seemed like he would bounce back and focus on helping out at Forrester. But since the news of Thomas and Steffy taking control of the company, he had not showed up at the office. He probably saw their decision as a sign that he was no longer needed or wanted, that he was too old.

It was so wrong, Rick thought. Eric Forrester should be there, working side by side with his children. After all, he _was _Forrester Creations. And thinking it over, Rick had finally had an idea. The perfect solution to give his father a new reason to live, and a chance to teach little Tom a lesson in the process. Now, all he needed was to get the others on board…

Brooke and Hope came into Rick's office, followed by Donna. They could see at once that he was deep in thought.

"Honey, you wanted to see us?" Brooke asked.

"Yeah, Mom", Rick said. "I have an idea. But I think we should wait until everyone is here."

"So who else are we expecting?" Hope said curiously.

"Ridge and Thorne", Rick said. "At least, I hope they will be here. It's about Dad."

"What about Dad?" Thorne said, just entering the office followed by Ridge.

Rick took a deep breath, then began slowly and methodically:

"Well, you all know he isn't feeling all that good these days. Ever since Stephanie died, he seems to have lost his spark, and even more so since that thing with Thomas and Steffy…"

"Will you get to the point?" Ridge said, impatiently. He didn't like talking about the situation more than necessary.

"I think we can all agree that this is not the Forrester our father created. It's turning into something else, something younger. And maybe that's a sign."

"A sign of what?" Brooke said, perplexed.

"That it's time to move on", Rick continued. "If Dad's talent is no longer required here, why don't we put it to good use somewhere else?"

"Rick, I don't get it", Hope said. "Where?"

"I think plenty of us here at Forrester would much rather work for Eric Forrester, senior, than his grandchildren. So why don't we gather up those who feel that way and move somewhere else? Let's relaunch the classic Forrester couture image, with a company that bears the name of the master himself!"

Rick opened up his computer and started a presentation he had been working on all morning. It was titled "E F Couture". Brooke looked at her son with surprise. She was impressed.

"Rick, this is a great idea!" Donna said enthusiastically. "It's just what Eric needs!"

"No, it's what all of us need", Brooke filled in, thoughtfully.

"I like it!" Hope exclaimed. "Back to the roots of what made Forrester great!"

They all looked at Ridge and Thorne in anticipation. It couldn't be done without them. Thorne weighed his options.

"So, Dad would be CEO of this newly founded company?" he asked. "Is he okay with this?"

"I haven't asked him yet", Rick said. "I wanted to make sure I had your support first. But if you say the word, all we have to do is go to Dad and if he agrees, we could have this business up and running in no time. I've already found the perfect place."

"Where?" Thorne asked.

"Well, Jackie M went out of business months ago", Rick explained. "And that old office building has just been standing there, empty, ever since."

"Are you sure?" Thorne said, doubtfully. "What if Sally wants to buy it back?"

"She doesn't", Rick said with certainty. "She is still on her world cruise, with no plans of ever returning. The last I checked, she was on an extended so called retreat in French Polynesia. She can't even be reached. Trust me, fashion is the last thing on her mind."

"You want me to work with you, competing with my own children?" Ridge asked. He had never liked Rick, and right now, it seemed to him he had only two options, both of which were utterly humiliating.

"No, I want you to work with Dad", Rick said firmly. "Give him his spark back! Can you picture him all those years ago, building this company with his bare hands? Well, now he can do that again! And what would be a better reason to get up in the morning than that?"

"You know, Rick is right", Thorne said, nodding. "Ridge, remember when you thought you had lost Taylor. You were devastated. You didn't know what to do. And remember what Dad did? He challenged you to a fashion duel. He brought you to Portofino, to compete against him. Because he knew that was exactly what you needed. And I think he knew, because he is the same. He needs his work, his creativity... Rick, I'm with you."

Everybody was looking at Ridge. He thought for a long time. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay", he said. "Let's do this."

It wasn't really that he wanted to allow himself to be chased out of the company he had helped build. But part of him hoped that Thomas and Steffy would realize that they couldn't manage on their own and come to their senses. It was bound to happen, he thought. Not immediately, but before very long. And then he would be back as CEO of Forrester Creations. At least, he hoped so.

* * *

Eric Forrester was surprised to open the front door and find his sons and two of his ex-wives standing there. He was looking tired and hadn't shaved in three days.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were coming over", he apologized. "What - what is going on? Did anything happen? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, Eric, it's nothing like that", Donna said hurriedly.

"We just have a business proposition for you", Brooke filled in.

Eric looked from one to the other. Business was the furthest thing from his mind right now. Rick took out his laptop and sat down on the living room couch. Thorne and Ridge urged their father to look at the presentation of E F Couture. He stared at the small screen in disbelief.

"What is this? Are you mad?" he said incredulously.

"No, Dad, we've thought about this", Rick said. "And there are a lot of people over at Forrester who are not content with the way things are being run. People who don't like the new direction, the focus on the younger customers. Our old buyers are feeling neglected. So, if we can't bring tradition back to Forrester, why not take that tradition with us and go somewhere else?"

"It would put Steffy and Thomas in an impossible position!" Eric objected. "And it would look to the press like our family was falling apart! How would that benefit our brand?"

"I say if they want to turn Forrester into a young, modern, edgy company, let them!" Rick continued. "We don't even have to compete with them - we can just offer an alternative. Our target group could be the mature, the glamorous, the sophisticated - in fact, what haute couture has always been about!"

"And you are all on board with this?" Eric asked.

"All we need is a captain", Thorne said. "You, Dad."

"You built Forrester with your own hands, Dad", Ridge filled in, "you could do it again."

Eric looked at them. Then he spoke:

"You have no idea what it's like to build a company from nothing. It takes endless hours of hard work. It takes blood sweat and tears. It takes enormous sacrifices. It takes dedication. And you really think I could do it again, at my age?"

"Nah", Thorne joked, "when you put it like that I guess it does sound a bit too much for you. Let me just make a few phone calls and book you into a nursing home right away instead."

There was a gleam in Eric's eye.

"Don't you dare, son", he said. "Don't you dare! I may be an old man, but you can't count me out just yet!"

"That's more like it!" Ridge exclaimed. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are officially in business!"

* * *

Diana walked slowly down the stairs and towards the bar. She had just had another so-called customer, a grey-haired man well into his seventies. He had paid her well, and as usual, she had to give most of the money to Luigi - that was the agreement. She had thought it would get easier in time, but it didn't. Whenever she had to take a new man to her bedroom, she had such an overwhelming feeling of disgust that it took every ounce of strength in her to pretend to be enjoying herself instead of spitting in his face and telling him to get lost. And now, there was the added concern that what she was doing might hurt the baby she was carrying. The baby she still hadn't told anybody about, besides Barbara.

But when she came to the bar, she could see that both Luigi and the bartender were looking at her intently. Pearl was standing there too, looking embarrassed.

"Listen", Luigi roared, "rumor has it that you have got yourself knocked up. I hope that's not true!"

Diana looked around. How did he find out? Did Barbara…? No, she wouldn't - besides, she wasn't even at the bar, she had been on stage singing all evening, and this must have happened while Diana was upstairs, because Luigi hadn't looked at her like that before then.

"Pearl?" Diana asked.

Pearl looked away.

"I didn't say anything like that", she objected. "I just remarked to Bob here that you seem to have put on a bit of weight lately. I didn't mean…"

"Nobody cares what you meant!" Luigi virtually screamed. "Laura, is it true or not?"

His outburst was so loud that the band stopped playing and everybody in the room looked his way. Diana bit her lip. Then, she nodded, with tears in her eyes.

"Out!" Luigi shouted at her. "And don't you dare come back until you've got rid of it!"

"Luigi, she's not going anywhere!"

Suddenly, Barbara had placed herself between Diana and Luigi, preventing the large man from getting near the girl. Hearing what went on, she had interrupted her singing and rushed to the bar to help.

Luigi merely laughed.

"There she goes again!" he mocked. "My fiery little Barbie! Only the last time you were telling me I had to let the girl leave, and now you say she has to stay! Can't you women ever make up your minds? Or maybe you've just had a bit too much to drink and aren't thinking straight, is that it? Why don't you just go upstairs and sleep it off, and we'll talk about this in the morning, huh?"

Barbara threw him a hateful look. But she didn't answer. Finally, she said, in a voice that she was struggling to keep calm:

"Can I just talk to Laura for a second?"

Luigi smiled. He touched Barbara's cheek with feigned tenderness.

"Of course, darling", he purred menacingly. "And you and I will talk as well… later."

Barbara took a deep breath, then motioned to Diana to follow her upstairs. She ushered her into the bedroom she shared with Luigi and shut the door. Then she listened for a minute to make sure nobody was in the corridor outside.

"Diana", she said in what was barely more than a whisper, "you can't have a baby in this place."

"You think I should have an abortion, don't you?" Diana answered vehemently. "Well, I wont! I'm not gonna kill my child."

"No, no!" Barbara said, shocked. "I wasn't suggesting that. I would never… I would never ever suggest anything like that. Believe me."

"Then what do you mean?" Diana asked with some confusion.

"I'll show you."

Barbara went to a small table by her side of the bed. Opening the only drawer, she took out a bottle with a Russian label.

"Vodka?" Diana said incredulously.

"Not anymore", Barbara said, shaking the bottle. There was a soft clinking sound. Then she held it up to the light to reveal some coins and dollar bills inside.

"I've been putting away some money for a while now", she explained. "It's a slow process, since I can only put in little at a time without Luigi noticing. But one day, there will be enough."

"Enough for what?" Diana asked.

"You said you wanted to go to LA", Barbara said, smiling. "Well, when this bottle is full, you can."

Diana stared at the middle-aged woman. Suddenly, she felt both hopeful and scared.

"Are you coming with me?" she asked.

Barbara nodded.

"You don't really think I'd leave you alone in your condition? No, it will soon be time for both of us to leave. For Hollywood, or wherever you'd like to go. Anywhere but here is fine by me."

Overwhelmed, Diana pulled Barbara into a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she whispered.

"But we have to be very careful", Barbara warned. "Nobody must find out about this. Not until we're safely out of this place. You'd better go to your room now."

Diana left quickly, and Barbara could hear her walking into her own room and locking the door. Barbara sighed. Now all she had to do was sit and wait for Luigi to come upstairs and 'talk' to her.

Saying a short prayer, she braced herself.


	9. Chapter IX: Battle Lines are Drawn

**Chapter IX: Battle Lines are Drawn**

Thomas was very pale. With trembling hands, he picked up a thick bunch of papers from the desk in front of him.

Resignation papers.

Rick's had come first, of course, followed by Brooke's, Donna's and Hope's. It was only to be expected, he thought - they were all Logans, after all. And if they had been the only ones to leave, his reaction would have been to say "good riddance". But then, others had followed. Thorne along with quite a few of his closest coworkers down at sewing and shipping, then Ridge, and finally Eric. The last two were the hardest blow, because not only had they resigned, they had also expressed a wish to sell their shares in the company in order to, as they wrote, "invest in other business ventures".

How could this have happened? Had he moved to fast? Had he pushed his ideas too aggressively? Whatever the cause, there was no going back now.

"Thomas!" Steffy said sharply as she entered the office without knocking. "There are all these rumors flying around about…"

Thomas stared at her blankly. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"So it's true" she said, stunned. "Dad and Grandpa left the company."

"Yes."

"What do we do?" Steffy said, always one to be practical. "This could be disastrous for the company."

"What can we do but move forward?" Thomas said.

"So you don't consider the possibility of backing down and letting Dad take over again?" Steffy asked thoughtfully. "After all, that's why they are doing this. It's a knee-jerk reaction. We could still reverse it if we wanted to, before word gets out to the press."

"And lose our faces in front of the entire family?" Thomas retorted. "No way. We can do this without them, and we're gonna prove it."

"I hear you, Thomas", Steffy said. "But we just lost several valuable employees and a lot of credibility with our customers."

"We can still do it, Steffy!" Thomas said with conviction. "We just have to work with what we've got and turn this to our advantage. The new generation takes over - something like that! You and I make a great executive team, and we've still got most of our employees and some really talented designers, including yours truly and Caroline. At least, I hope she will stay on - I'll make her an offer she can't refuse. And I think we could still persuade Amber to come back and work for us."

"Amber? Are you sure?" Steffy said doubtfully. "She's not exactly reliable."

"She's a good designer. That works for me. We can do this, Steffy."

Steffy shrugged.

"Well, we're gonna have to. Or we are history."

* * *

Eric looked around. He had been in Sally's office many times over the years, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he would be sitting behind that old desk one day. But then again, a lot had happened lately that he couldn't have imagined. Leaving the company he founded. Losing Stephanie. And now, here they were. Eric Forrester, surrounded by his sons, ready to start afresh.

"Sally Says Recycle", he read on the old framed poster on the wall.

It was true - everything was starting over again. Just when he had thought he would retire for good, he had been faced with the extraordinary challenge to start a new fashion house. E F Couture. The name had a nice ring to it. Not as nice as Forrester Creations, but still.

"Dad, I have a list of people we will need to hire as soon as possible in order to get production going", Thorne said. "Dad?"

"Sorry, son", Eric said. "My mind was wandering."

"And I say we should start working on our first line", Ridge said. "We've got no time to lose."

"I have been working on a press release", Rick said, showing his father a preliminary statement. "But I think we should also call a press conference soon."

Eric smiled. The boys weren't wasting any time.

Meanwhile, Donna had settled at the receptionist's desk. There had never been any question as to what her role in the new company would be. With mixed emotions, she found that she would actually miss sharing a desk with Pam and her lemon bars. But it was a nice change to have some leg space and a phone of your own.

It rang.

Donna picked it up before the first signal had faded.

"E F Couture, how can I help you?"

"Donna?" Thomas's voice said. "Is Dad or Grandpa there?"

"They're in a meeting right now, can I leave a message?" Donna said, taking her secretarial duties very seriously.

"Just this", Thomas said. "Steffy and I wish them good luck with their new company. Because they're gonna need it. You tell them that."

Then he hung up.

* * *

Luigi stood at the bar, his bar, searching the crowd. He had been waiting for a while now, but the Boss wasn't always punctual. It was only natural that the Boss would have to take every precaution on his way here, making sure he wasn't seen coming or going.

It was a busy night. All the girls seemed to have their hands full, waiting tables or paying attention to the men in the room. Even that little kid Laura was working hard, he thought. She was a sweet little young thing - it was a pity she had to get herself pregnant, though. The girl was already starting to show, and a few months from now it would be impossible for her to work. If Luigi had had his way, she would have been out on her ear the moment he found out she was keeping her baby. Who does that in a place like this, anyway?

But then there was Barbara. She had obviously taken a great interest in this new girl for some reason. Luigi couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe it was some kind of mid-life crisis, he thought. Not having any children of her own, Barbara seemed to have a lot of pent up maternal feelings and this little Laura was, of course, the perfect substitute daughter.

At first, this had annoyed Luigi greatly. Barbara had been quite vocal on Laura's behalf and taken uncharacteristic liberties, even to the point of threatening him with the police. On more than one occasion, Luigi had had to physically knock some sense into her when she had got too unruly. She just didn't realize how much was at stake, for all of them. A lot of people depended on this nightclub's existence for their living. The Boss depended on it as a place where he could conduct his business unobserved. One word to the police from an irrational woman could ruin that, and then they would all go down.

But thankfully, she had calmed down at last. This evening, she was on stage again, singing as usual, even talking cheerfully to the audience between songs. And as long as she had the little pregnant girl to occupy her mind with, Luigi could direct his attention to more important things. The Boss had contacted him yesterday, informing him that there would be several important business transactions taking place over the next months or so, the first of which was due tonight. It was vital that this business take place quickly and discreetly, and a crowded nightclub was usually an ideal place. Luigi was only too happy to make minor concessions to Barbara's whims if it meant keeping her out of his hair on important nights like this.

Luigi finally spotted a dark-haired man in glasses and a grey suit. The Boss had arrived. Motioning him into an adjoining room, Luigi made sure that nobody had seen him come. Showing a black briefcase, the Boss spoke authoritatively:

"I have the money. I need you to deliver it to our associate on Tuesday in exchange for certain… objects which I have been eager to obtain."

Luigi nodded silently. He knew better than to ask what these objects were or where they came from, but he could tell that they must be of considerable value. Opening a small safe, he placed the briefcase inside. The Boss nodded approvingly.

"You are trustworthy as always", he stated. "This place is one of the cornerstones in our organization."

"Thank you", Luigi replied humbly.

"I trust you will keep it that way", the Boss said significantly. "If ever there is the risk of a leak, or even the hint of a risk, I trust you will take care of it."

"Of course, Boss", Luigi said.

"I am glad to hear it", the Boss said as he made a swift departure. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Luigi went back to the bar and ordered a large glass of whisky. He needed it. Because he knew very well what the Boss was referring to. Looking at the stage again, he observed Barbara thoughtfully. He was quite fond of her, and had been from the very beginning. She reminded him of a long deceased favorite cousin of his who had been called Barbara - that was why he had given this woman the same name. And that resemblance was probably the reason why she had lasted this long, the reason why Luigi had decided not to tell the Boss about her occasional outbursts and empty threats of going to the authorities. As long as Barbara stayed loyal to him, he thought, he would stay loyal to her.

However, if she betrayed him… Luigi's heart sank when he thought about it, but nevertheless, he knew what he would have to do if that ever happened. The wellbeing of the organization was too important, and he could not jeopardize it all to protect one woman.

Even if it was the woman he loved.


	10. Chapter X: The Press Conference

**Chapter X: The press conference**

It was showtime. The old showroom that had previously belonged to Spectra Fashions and, later, Jackie M had been made ready for what promised to be a sensational press conference. The news that Eric Forrester was starting a new fashion house had caused a great deal of buzz throughout the industry, and even though the press conference wouldn't start in another twenty-five minutes, people were pouring in.

Watching the crowd from behind the curtain, Thorne couldn't believe how many from the national and international fashion press were present.

"Jarrett from Eye on Fashion is here", he reported to Eric and the others. "And surprisingly, so is Karen Spencer. I thought she wasn't that involved in Spencer Publications, but I guess she just couldn't contain her curiosity. After all, we are her daughter's competition now. Oh, and there are people from New York, too, as well as Paris and Milan. And Fashion TV is here to cover everything live. This is going to be big!"

"Dad, can I see?" Alexandria asked excitedly, moving forward to take a peek.

As she had spring break this week, she had pleaded with her father to let her come and watch all the action, and he had agreed, on the express condition that she had to stay backstage and not wander off on her own. Thorne remembered from the brief periods of time he had worked in this building how easy it was to get lost in the corridors. And at one point in time long ago, when Bridget had run away from home as a teenager, she had even been able to hide in a corner at Spectra for quite some time before she was discovered. It was like a maze down here.

Brooke was standing by herself in a corner, a bit away from the rest of the family. These past few weeks hadn't been easy for her - working so closely with Ridge to achieve a common goal could have been the perfect opportunity for them to overcome their differences and forget about that stupid argument over Deacon. But it hadn't happened that way. On the contrary, Ridge had avoided speaking directly with her whenever he could, and most of the time he had even tried not to be in the same room with her.

But now here they were, all of them together in the very small space backstage, and Ridge was standing by himself, going over his speech one final time. Brooke decided to seize the chance to talk to him, even though it would be only a very brief conversation.

"Ridge…" she began, walking up to him.

"Not now, Brooke", he answered. "I'm busy."

She was Brooke to him now. Not Logan.

"Ridge, we need to talk", Brooke persisted. "I want us to talk about this. We need to do something, anything to make it right again between us. I swear, I will do whatever it takes to fix this - we've worked too long and hard to be together to give up now."

"Maybe that's just it, Brooke", Ridge said. "Should we really have to work this hard for a relationship to work? When will it end? When can we just sit back and enjoy what we've accomplished?"

"Right now!" Brooke said. "We have all of that already. If we could just move past this one last hurdle…"

"Just one more obstacle", Ridge replied bitterly. "And then another one, but that will surely be the last one. And then…"

"It's not like that this time and you know it!"

"Do I?" Ridge said, looking thoughtfully at her. "How will I ever know? How will I ever trust you again?"

"So you're just giving up?" Brooke asked, with tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"No", Ridge said. "I'm letting go. What we had was wonderful, but I want to step off the roller coaster now. It's not that I don't love you…"

"Well, then", Brooke insisted, "love is all that really matters!"

"Maybe for you. But I want more. I want something real. Something that lasts. And we never managed to achieve that. I'm sorry, Brooke. I can't talk any more right now."

With those words, Ridge left Brooke and turned his attention towards the press conference which was about to start. Brooke remained standing in the corner, confused. What Ridge had said to her seemed so unreal, not at all like the man she used to know. Ever since he had come back to LA, he had almost been like a stranger to her, nothing like the Ridge she had spent her whole adult life loving. Could this really be the end of their relationship? She thought about how she had seen Ridge and Taylor talking a few months ago, and how connected they still seemed.

"Mom? Are you all right?"

Hope's voice cut through Brooke's thoughts and called her back to reality.

"We're starting in just a few minutes", she said.

Brooke wiped her eyes carefully and got ready to face the press.

Meanwhile, Thorne had moved to the entrance and was greeting the last-minute arrivals, marking them on the guest list and showing them to their seats. He was just about to return to his family when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Hi", Karen Spencer said, smiling at him.

"Karen!" Thorne said, surprised. He knew that she had been back in town for almost a year, but they hadn't really had a chance to talk.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck", she continued. "And it would be nice to have dinner with you sometime. I hear you live just a bit further down the beach from Dani and me, so we're practically neighbors."

"Sounds nice, I'll take you up on that one of these days!" Thorne said cheerfully. "Oh, I have to get back now, the press conference is about to begin!"

* * *

Pearl was standing in the nightclub's small kitchen. She had just begun preparing lunch, and was chopping onions while watching the small TV on the wall. It was still quite early, and the club was closed.

"Hey Bob", she called out to the bar, where the bartender was busy cleaning the counter, "how about some chili? Remember I told you I'd cook for you one of these days."

"Sounds great!" Bob called back. "I can't wait!"

"What sounds great?" Diana asked, coming down the stairs. "Oh, is someone cooking?"

"Don't worry, honey", Pearl shouted as she had heard the girl, "there's plenty for you, too! And Barbie, if she's up yet."

"I don't know", Diana said, "I haven't seen her or Luigi today."

That very moment, Barbara entered the room followed by Luigi, whose hand was resting possessively on Barbara's back. They didn't speak.

"I have some errands to run", Luigi declared. "Barbie, you stay here with Bob and the others until I return."

Barbara nodded silently. Luigi grabbed his coat and left.

"Is something wrong?" Diana whispered to Barbara, who just smiled and shook her head.

"Too much of a good thing last night?" Pearl asked, coming out of the kitchen.

"Don't be silly, Pearl", Bob replied. "You know as well as I do that Barbie could drink anyone under the table. No, this looks more like the lady has a lot on her mind. Am I right?"

Barbara looked at him absentmindedly, then made a gesture to indicate that he was right, but that she didn't really want to talk about it.

In fact, there was not much to talk about - she wouldn't know what to say. It was just a vague feeling of unease she had had lately whenever she was alone with Luigi. She had a feeling that he was observing her more closely than usual, and with a look in his eyes she didn't quite understand. Or maybe she was just extra vigilant because she knew she was planning to leave, the moment she had saved enough money.

"Why don't you ladies help me out in here?" Pearl suggested hurriedly, looking at Barbara and Diana.

Both of them were eager to join Pearl and within a few minutes, they found themselves in the small kitchen, all three of them bending over what would become their lunch chili. Diana threw a glance at the TV screen.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Oh", Pearl replied, "I was just flipping through the channels, and I ended up watching Fashion TV for a while. Apparently there's this huge live press conference because Eric Forrester is starting a new fashion house."

"Who?" Barbara asked.

"Eric Forrester", Pearl explained with authority. "He's only, like, the guru of fashion in LA. Everybody knows about Forrester Creations, they make clothes for all these celebrities and royalties around the world, you know, the kind of clothes people like us can only dream of wearing. Seriously, Barbie, you didn't know? Sometimes I swear you must have been living under a rock in the desert for the past few decades or so."

"Pearl!" Diana objected, stepping in to defend her friend. "I didn't know that either."

"I mean no harm, but it's true, honey", Pearl continued, turning to Diana. "You know, when I first met her, she didn't even know the name of the President."

Barbara didn't answer. Instead, she turned her attention to the TV. The Forresters' press conference had started. Eric, Ridge, Thorne and Rick Forrester declared the opening of a new fashion house, E F Couture. There were a lot of flashing cameras and reporters eagerly asking questions. She had to admit it was more interesting than she had expected.

"They're quite a handsome family, aren't they?" Pearl said. "Rich, too. I wouldn't mind it one bit if one of them came in here and just swept me off my feet. Rumor has it they are all unmarried at the moment, imagine that!"

Pearl laughed, and Diana couldn't help laughing with her.

"So, which one of them would you pick as your knight in shining armor if you could choose?" Diana inquired.

"Tough choice", Pearl said thoughtfully. "I'd have to say Thorne, though. I always go for the tall blonde guys. What about you, Barbie?"

"I don't know", Barbara said, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I don't really see the point in daydreaming about something that is never going to happen."

"Oh, don't be such a kill-joy!" Pearl objected. "A girl can dream, right! Speaking of which, how are your Hollywood plans going, Laura?"

Diana froze and threw an anxious glance at Barbara. The latter shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Very well", Diana said, trying to sound like she was joking, "I am going to model in these guys' very first fashion show!"

She pointed at the TV. Now, they were showing a single gown, a preview of a future collection by Eric Forrester. It was a beautiful yellow dress, simple but sophisticated.

"Wow, I can see myself wearing that one!" Pearl said, her eyes glowing.

"The fabric must have cost a fortune!" Barbara exclaimed. "And look at that lace…"

"I think the chili is almost done!" Diana interrupted.

Pearl tasted it gingerly, then agreed that it was indeed finished. Barbara and Diana grabbed spoons as well and tasted a little.

"That's really good!" Diana said approvingly.

"Yeah, maybe we could try adding some cinnamon?" Barbara asked. "I think that would make it even better."

Pearl looked at her suspiciously. She didn't like it when her authority as a cook was questioned. But just as she was about to challenge Barbara's suggestion, a sudden cry of surprise from Diana stopped her.

"Oh! What was that?" the girl gasped, feeling her stomach.

"What?" Pearl asked, surprised.

"I don't know", Diana said, "I feel like I have a goldfish inside me. There it is again!"

Pearl and Barbara looked at each other, then they started smiling as the truth dawned on them.

"Honey", Barbara began, "you don't think it could be the baby moving?"

Diana's eyes widened.

"Do you really think so?" she said, incredulously, looking at the women.

"He obviously likes my chili", Pearl joked.

Diana grinned. How little it takes to be happy, she thought. Here she was, in a place most would consider hell on earth, constantly worrying about her future, and yet now she was smiling and feeling warm inside, all because of chili, Fashion TV and a small, almost imperceptible flutter inside her.

"Let's eat!" she said.


	11. Chapter XI: Ties to the Past

**Chapter XI: Ties to the Past  
**

It was a sunny Tuesday in the beginning of May. Not expecting her father to be home, Alexandria opened the front door and threw her schoolbag carelessly on the living room floor.

"Ally, honey, what did I tell you about dropping your things everywhere around the house?" a voice shouted reproachfully.

"Dad, you're home!" Alexandria cried, surprised. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I left early", Thorne said. "After all the extra hours I've been putting in lately trying to get the company off the ground, I think I've earned it. Besides, we're having guests."

"Really?" Alexandria asked. "You didn't tell me. So, who's the mystery visitor?"

"I've invited Karen Spencer and her partner Danielle over for dinner", Thorne said. "Karen's an old friend and the two of them live just down the beach. We've been saying for weeks we should get together some day and do some catching up."

"Sounds great!" Ally said, smiling. "What are we having for dinner?"

"I'm preparing my own very special chili a la Thorne."

"Even better!" Ally laughed. "But you shouldn't call it 'a la Thorne' because in French 'la' is feminine so that would be like you are a woman."

"You are too smart for your own good, you know that, right?" Thorne joked.

"I know. It's a curse", Alexandria replied gravely. "Why are there five plates on the table?"

Thorne took a deep breath.

"Because I also invited Taylor. Ally…" he added when he saw the expression on his daughter's face change instantaneously, "you have to give her a chance. She is a good person and she is making an effort to get along with you. You know how I feel about her…"

"Dad, don't", Alexandria interrupted. "I know what you are going to say. I've heard it all before, remember?"

"Will you please at least try to be civil with her tonight?" Thorne pleaded. "For me?"

"I can try", Alexandria said coldly. "I can't promise I will succeed."

Thorne sighed. Deep down, he wondered if inviting Taylor over had been such a good idea after all. But he felt that they hadn't had much time together since the start of Eric's new company, and he really wanted Ally and Taylor to have a chance to become closer. Inviting Karen and Danielle had, in part, been an attempt to create a diversion so the situation wouldn't be so awkward for Ally, but it now seemed like that wasn't going to work. However, it was too late to cancel now. The chili was on the stove and Taylor must be in her car already.

A while later, the doorbell rang. As Thorne opened the door, he found Karen and Danielle standing there. Alexandria, who had been watching from the terrace outside, drew a sigh of relief. She went up to the two women and greeted them courteously.

"You must be Karen", she said, shaking Karen's hand. "I'm Ally. You're a friend of Dad's, right?"

"That's right", Karen said. "Nice to meet you, Ally. And this is Dani."

Thorne and Alexandria both shook hands with Danielle.

"And you're, like, Karen's wife?" Alexandria inquired.

Danielle smiled. Karen laughed, a little awkwardly at first, as her eyes met Thorne's."

"I wasn't sure if you'd told…" she began.

"Oh, Karen", Thorne said, smiling, "you know kids these days. They know a lot about the world. There's no point in hiding anything from them."

"Except for a past life as a pop star!" Ally added. "Apparently, that is a deep dark secret that must be kept at all costs!"

Danielle raised her eyebrows. Thorne laughed.

"Yeah, I do remember that you had quite a voice back in the day", Karen reminisced. "Though I have to admit I never expected you to actually go for it as a career choice. Always thought that was more Macy's thing than yours, anyway."

"Well, you know," Thorne said with a smile, "it was her fault. She made me do it."

His smile suddenly disappeared. There was a moment of silence, then the doorbell rang again.

"I'm sorry I'm late", Taylor said as she entered. "The traffic was really intense on the way here."

Alexandria inhaled sharply. Taylor had some nerve talking about traffic in this house! Aloud, she just said:

"Hello, Taylor."

"Well, ladies", Thorne said, trying to break the awkward mood, "dinner is served!"

"It smells lovely!" Danielle exclaimed. "Karen told me you are a great cook."

"Although his repertoire used to be a bit limited", Karen added.

Everyone sat down at the table. Sensing that Thorne, Alexandria and Taylor were all uncomfortable, Karen started relating vividly and a little nervously some of the many trips abroad she and Dani had made. Thorne and Taylor both seemed interested and Dani filled in some details here and there. Only Alexandria was quiet and detached. She hardly ate anything and spent most of the time looking blankly straight ahead. As soon as she possibly could, she excused herself from the table and went to her room. Karen and her partner looked at each other in confusion.

"She has a hard time accepting my relationship with Taylor", Thorne explained feebly. "It's a long story. Don't worry about it."

Karen threw Thorne an inquisitive look.

"Can I help you clear the table?" she asked.

Thorne thanked Karen, surprised. As they went into the kitchen, Karen felt the time was right to say what had been on her mind most of the evening.

"I know it's been a long time since we last talked and I'm probably being rude for asking…" she began.

"Not at all", Thorne said. "I know you always speak your mind, so go ahead!"

"Okay", Karen said. "Are you sure about you and Taylor?"

"You mean because of Alexandria?" Thorne said.

"No", Karen continued. "I mean because of you two. Is this really what you want? Is it what she wants?"

"Of course it is", Thorne said defensively. "We've been together for a long time…"

"And not much has come of it, right?" Karen asked.

"Where are you getting that?" Thorne said, starting to feel uneasy.

"Nowhere in particular", Karen admitted. "It's just something in the way Taylor behaves around you. She seems more like your friend than your… well, whatever she is. And the way you look at her…"

"What?" Thorne asked.

"I recognize that. You used to look at me the same way when we were dating. Like you are trying so hard to make it work that you don't see it's not meant to be."

"Karen…" Thorne began apologetically. "About you and me…"

"No, Thorne", Karen interrupted. "It's okay, I understand. Probably better than anyone. We were both confused at the time, we couldn't see the truth - that we were together for all the wrong reasons. But I have learned a lot since, about life, about love. And trust me, I know denial when I see it."

"Denial? What am I supposedly denying?"

"That's for you to discover", Karen said gently. "Maybe the same thing you were denying back then."

With those words, Karen left the kitchen.

* * *

Barbara was sitting on her bed, carefully counting the money she had hidden away in a vodka bottle. There still wasn't nearly enough, she thought. What little she had saved would hardly pay for the trip. And then they would be needing food, clothes…

There was a sound outside the door. Hurriedly, Barbara put the money back in the bottle and threw it back inside the drawer. Then she went to the door and opened it. Luckily, it was only Diana. The girl slid into the room noiselessly, and Barbara closed the door quickly behind her.

"How are things going down there?" Barbara inquired.

"Nothing much happening", Diana reported. "Luigi is busy again with some important business of his, so he's pretty much leaving us all alone."

"Good", Barbara said. "I'll be down again in a minute. I just got some tips at the bar and I wanted to put them away for safe keeping."

Diana looked at the drawer.

"How much do we have so far?" she asked.

"Not all that much", Barbara admitted. "But we're getting there."

"I wish there was more I could do to make money", Diana lamented. "But looking the way I do right now" - she looked down on her belly - "I can hardly do anything but wait tables. And even then I get more tired than before."

"Why don't you rest for a while?" Barbara suggested. "You need to focus on yourself and that little boy or girl you are carrying."

Diana took off her shoes and sat down on the bed, leaning her back against a pillow. It felt good to relax her swollen feet.

"I think it's a boy", she said.

Barbara smiled.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"I don't know", Diana said, "I guess I always pictured him as a little Noah. I like that name. Noah Carter."

"It's a nice name", Barbara said. "Carter, is that your mother's name?"

"I think so", Diana said. "Like I said before, I don't really know a lot about her. Only that she was sent to prison and I was placed in foster care. I was too young to remember anything about that. All I know is I have been moved from one home to another ever since. I never stayed very long in one place."

"Did you ever try to find your mother, or any relatives?" Barbara asked.

Diana shook her head.

"I wouldn't know how to", she admitted. "Besides, if they were interested, wouldn't they come to find me?"

"Maybe", Barbara said thoughtfully. She was silent for a while.

"Anyway", Diana said, abruptly changing the subject, "you know a lot about me by now, but I still haven't heard anything about you. Is Barbara even your real name, by the way?"

Barbara nodded.

"Yes, I'm Barbara. Barbara Brown."

"Barbara Brown. Barbie Brown. That sounds like a doll's name", Diana remarked.

Barbara laughed and admitted that Diana was right.

"I guess in a way that is how Luigi sees me", she said. "You see, we have known each other since we were children. We dated in high school. Then I ran away from home and we didn't see each other again until much later, just a few years ago actually. I was living in the streets at the time, I was a complete mess. And then one day I was knocked down by some thugs who wanted to steal what little I owned. Luigi discovered me lying unconscious in an alleyway and I would probably have died there if he hadn't found me, recognized me and taken care of me."

"Luigi?" Diana said doubtfully. "Are we talking about the same guy here?"

"He does have it in him", Barbara said. "And during those months when I was recovering from the assault, he was very gentle with me. He even hired a doctor to help me. It was a very confusing period in my life - my head had been injured in the assault and when I woke up I had to learn everything again. Walking, talking, basic general knowledge about the world and about my own identity. But Luigi helped me. I guess that's why I've stayed with him so long. He's my only link to who I was before this happened. He knows more about me than I do myself."

"But the way he treats you now…" Diana objected.

"I know", Barbara replied. "I guess he got used to me being helpless and dependent on him. He didn't take it too well when I started having thoughts of my own that sometimes didn't agree with his. So what could I do but try to keep him calm and not upset him unnecessarily? He was all I had."

"But what were you doing before you came here?" Diana asked. "Did you just run away from home and then you lived on the street all those years? How did you even survive?"

Barbara frowned.

"I couldn't say for sure…" she answered slowly. "My mind is still just a blur when I try to think about it. And, I mean, naturally Luigi could only tell me what he himself knew, up until the point when I ran away as a teenager. The rest is anyone's guess."

"So you don't remember?" Diana said. "That must be really scary."

"It is", Barbara said, nodding gravely, "believe me, it is."

"And still you want to leave him now, even though he's the only connection you have with your past life?"

"There comes a point when the future is more important", Barbara stated with conviction. "And not just mine, but yours and that little baby's."

There was a sound of someone ascending the stairs. Barbara started.

"That might be him!" she whispered. "I think you should leave now."

Diana got up, took her shoes in her hand and disappeared into her own room. Moments later, Luigi's large frame became visible in the corridor. He went straight to Barbara, carrying a large bottle of whisky and two glasses.

"I think it's time you and I had a little celebration", he stated, entering the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"What's the occasion?" Barbara asked, not sure what to make of Luigi's unexpected good mood.

"Business is going well", he explained. "Extremely well. And that's all you need to know."

He poured Barbara a glass of whisky and another one for himself.

"Cheers, Barbie!" he laughed.

Barbara forced a smile and took a sip. The whisky was not bad. Or even if it was, at least it helped take some of the dark thoughts off her mind. Thoughts about money she didn't have, plans that might not work, a past she couldn't make head or tail of and a future that was very uncertain. Emptying the glass, she quickly had Luigi fill it up again for her. He merely grinned at her encouragingly.

"That's my girl!" he said.

She emptied a second glass, and maybe a third (she wasn't counting), vaguely aware that Luigi couldn't keep up with her. After a while, she started feeling better. She felt her limbs relaxing, got on the bed and leant back into the pillows. Maybe all she needed was a good night's sleep, and she would think clearer in the morning. Tomorrow, she would figure it all out. She closed her eyes.

Barbara felt the bed moving as Luigi climbed in beside her. He started caressing her hair gently. She shook him off.

"I'm tired", she said.

Luigi kept touching her hair, and then his hand moved down her neck and towards her chest. It was making her uncomfortable. She just wanted to sleep.

"Luigi, please", she pleaded wearily, "I'm not in the mood."

He didn't seem to hear her. His hands were still all over her, and he had started unbuttoning her dress. Barbara made one last attempt to push him away.

"No, stop…" she said weakly. "I don't want to…"

She still had some awareness that Luigi wasn't going to stop, but the sleepier she became, the less it seemed to matter. Sensing that she was too tired to do anything about it, she just let herself sink deeper into the pillows. Soon, she was no longer aware of what was happening.

Luigi bent over the sleeping woman and started kissing her passionately.

* * *

The brown-haired woman took off her sunglasses as she slid into the dark Internet café. She ordered a cup of coffee and sat down at a computer, cautiously keeping her thin gloves on. A life on the run had taught her that one could never be too careful. For that reason, she went to great lengths to avoid signing contracts or buying things that would require her giving out her name or address, even though she was living under an assumed name (one of many), and never kept the same address for long. All things considered, she thought, it was safer to go to a public place to use the Internet than get her own connection.

Opening the web browser, she typed a name into the search engine. Mary Warwick.

"Mary, you have done well", she said to herself as she reviewed the search results. "Student of psychiatry. Following in your father's footsteps, I see. I guess that could be expected - you certainly don't take after me. Never even want to admit that you've got my blood running through your veins. Ungrateful little bitch!"

A man sitting at the computer across the table looked up in surprise. The woman reminded herself that she mustn't let herself get carried away. She kept reading, trying to see if anything new had happened since the last time she checked. Apparently Mary had found herself a boyfriend, judging by the updated Facebook profile picture. The woman couldn't see anything else on Mary's account, since they weren't officially "friends".

She went on to search another name, one that she hadn't tried in quite some time because it usually came up with no good results.

Diana Carter.

Maybe it was useless - the girl could have changed her last name a long time ago. But then again, it was worth a try once in a while. Surprisingly, there was a new result that seemed somewhat promising. The woman read carefully on the screen:

"Teenage girl missing. Diana Carter, aged thirteen…"

The link led to the website of a Nevada newspaper. She clicked it, but the article was dated several months back and had expired. Her heart beating faster, the woman stared at the screen. It might just be a coincidence, she told herself. But the age was right, and the name. If she could only see a photo, if she could only find a copy of that newspaper, then she would know for sure. Finally, she would have some idea what had become of the little girl who had been taken from her - no, stolen from her. Stolen.

She rose from her seat, making sure to erase the web browser's history before leaving. It was a long shot, she knew that. But if there was even a chance that this Diana was the right one, her Diana, she couldn't let this opportunity to find her pass her by. All conventional venues, foster care agencies, advertising and so on, were closed to her - a runaway convict who was generally presumed dead.

So she decided to head for Nevada as soon as possible. She had stayed in this little town much longer than intended anyway. It was time to move on.

"Don't worry, baby", she whispered to herself as she left the café, "Mama's coming.


	12. Chapter XII: Old Habits Die Hard

**Chapter XII: Old Habits Die Hard**

Eric Forrester had just added the finishing touch to his latest design. After weeks and weeks of hard work, it finally seemed like E F Couture would be able to pull off their first real fashion show before very long. He had been working with Ridge on a brand new collection which promised to be their best in a long time - a return to the classic elegance that used be synonymous with the Forrester brand.

Putting away his pencils, Eric took a step back to view the design from some distance. It was good, he thought. Sophisticated and balanced. With a sense of pride in his work, he thought:

"I'm going to show this to Stephanie…"

Then it hit him. Just as is always did, just as it had time and time again when he had let his mind wander. He couldn't show Stephanie this design. And somehow, that took away something of the joy he had felt when looking at it only a few moments ago. It would be a wonderful gown, a fine collection, but she wouldn't be here to share his triumph.

"Dad, that is exquisite!" Ridge exclaimed.

He had entered without his father noticing it. Eric turned around.

"Thank you, son", he said. "So how are you doing today? You've finished the design you started yesterday?"

Ridge pulled a sketch out of his briefcase.

"Sure did", he confirmed. "I took it home with me yesterday and sat up half the night. I didn't have anything else to do."

"You know", Eric began, "you could have come over to the main house and had a martini with your old man! You know you are always welcome, and you can stay in the guest house for as long as you like, by the way…"

Ridge nodded. Ever since he had returned to LA, he had been staying in the Forrester guest house rather than moving back in with Brooke. He felt that he needed some space and time to figure things out, and the guest house was a good place to do it.

"We are both kind of at a crossroads right now, aren't we?" Ridge said thoughtfully. "Not knowing what to do next or who to turn to. It's a good thing we have this company to take our minds off things."

"So things still haven't worked out for you and Brooke?" Eric asked.

"No", Ridge said, "and I don't think they will. Then there's this whole thing with Thomas and Steffy insisting on running Forrester on their own. I really didn't think they would last this long without us."

"I was hoping they'd come to their senses when they saw what it all did to the family", Eric agreed. "But they're young, they're ambitious. They feel like they have to prove a point. Maybe that's why they have scheduled their own showing on the same day as ours."

"They did what?" Ridge exclaimed.

Eric showed him the new issue of _Eye on Fashion. _It featured an article on "Forrester vs. Forrester", and revealed that both fashion houses would be having their respective showings on Thursday next week. The magazine promised what they described as a "fashion civil war".

"Jarrett!" Ridge said angrily. "I'm sure when we gave him that exclusive interview and told him the date he went straight to Forrester and leaked it to the kids, just to create an effect. I'll bet they decided then and there to challenge us and steal our spotlight!"

"You don't think they might have heard from Taylor?" Eric suggested. "After all, Thorne would have told her, since they are dating, right?"

"I'm not so sure about that", Ridge said. "I am under the impression Thorne and Taylor have been having some problems lately. At least she seems concerned when I talk to her about it."

"So the two of you talk a lot?" Eric asked.

Ridge threw his father a significant look.

"Yes, Dad, we talk", he said. "Of course we do. We are friends. We have children together. Taylor and I have always been close."

"I know, son", Eric said. "I was just wondering if your problems with Brooke and Taylor's problems with Thorne might mean…"

"Nothing", Ridge interrupted. "Look, Dad, I'm always going to care very deeply about Taylor, and I know she feels the same. She is one hell of a lady. And the years we spent together raising our children were some of the happiest in my life. But she's with my brother now. If that's really what she wants, I'll respect that. I'm not going to put her in an awkward position by forcing myself into her life again. And as for Thorne, well, the last thing we need right now is another fight between family members."

There was a noise at the door. Ridge and Eric both turned around. Taylor was standing there, looking at them with a slight blush on her cheeks.

"I was wondering if you had seen Thorne", she said.

Ridge and Eric looked at each other. Now that they thought about it, neither had seen Thorne in the office today. What was he up to?

* * *

"James, I am glad you could see me at such short notice", Thorne said as he welcomed Dr Warwick into his house once again.

"Of course", James said. "Is this about your daughter?"

"No, actually, it's about me", Thorne admitted.

"Very well then, how can I help you?"

"It may be nothing", Thorne reflected as they sat down in opposite armchairs in the living room, "but a friend of mine told me something a while ago and I haven't been able to get what she said out of my mind since."

"So", James asked, "what did your friend say?"

"It was actually an old girlfriend", Thorne continued. "Karen Spencer. She asked me if I was really sure about my relationship with Taylor."

"Do you think she was jealous?" James asked. "That she wants your relationship back?"

"No, no", Thorne said, laughing. "No, I'm certain it's nothing like that. I think she was just being a good friend who was trying to help. She said she thought I was in denial. She compared my relationship with Taylor with her relationship with me and warned me about being with someone for the wrong reasons."

"Obviously part of you thinks she may be right or you wouldn't still be worrying about this", James observed.

"Well", Thorne said, "it got me thinking. I remembered that you and I had a conversation about something similar many years ago. In fact, I came to you the first time my relationship with Taylor didn't work out."

"Yes, I remember", James said. "You told me how you always felt you had to compete with your brother, and how that had caused you to repeatedly develop an interest in women who were already in love with Ridge."

"And you made me realize that I always played the part of the good son, the knight in shining armor stepping in to rescue the women my brother had hurt."

"Are you afraid that you are doing it again now?" James asked. "Is that why you are having doubts about your relationship?"

Thorne shook his head doubtfully.

"Sometimes I don't even think I know what love really is", he said. "It's been so long since I was happy with a woman, that I hardly know what I'm looking for in a relationship anymore."

"Did you always feel like that?"

Thorne reflected in silence for a few minutes.

"No", he finally replied. "Darla and I were happy. I loved her and I loved the way she was with Ally. She made me feel at peace, and her silly smiles always made me laugh. And yet…"

"What?" James said. "Go on!"

"I don't think I would have married her if we hadn't shared a child", Thorne admitted. "I always liked her company, and valued her friendship, but ultimately it was our daughter who brought us together as a couple. So was that really true love?"

"It may have been", James said noncommittally. "What do you yourself think?"

"I don't know", Thorne mused. "When I look back it seems like whenever I have been involved with a woman, part of the attraction has always been that woman's role in relation to someone else. Caroline was Ridge's fiancée. Karen was Caroline's identical twin. Taylor and Brooke were both married to Ridge. And Darla was my daughter's mother."

"What about Macy?" James inquired. "You didn't mention her and yet you were married three times. Where does she fit in this pattern?"

Thorne frowned, suddenly feeling a strange resistance to continuing the conversation.

"She doesn't", he concluded. "With her, it was quite the opposite. She was Sally Spectra's daughter, and I married her in spite of that fact, not because of it."

"So what was the attraction there?"

"I guess it was just…" Thorne hesitated. "Just her. I don't know. It was not a conscious choice I made, it was simply the way it was. I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Why not?" James asked. "That in itself is very interesting."

"What is so interesting about that?" Thorne said defensively. "It was all such a long time ago, and talking about it won't change what happened or what I did. What's the use in bringing it up again?"

"Does it make you feel uncomfortable, talking about you ex-wife?"

"No, it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable!" Thorne snapped. "It…"

He stopped, unable to continue, and turned away abruptly. James waited patiently in silence. It took a few moments before Thorne had regained his composure.

"I messed up, and I know it", Thorne finally continued, talking very quietly. "I took the most significant relationship in my life, and I completely destroyed it. Time and time again, I threw it away because I thought I had to find something else. And when I finally realized that I had been chasing an illusion, and that what was real had been right there in front of me all along, it was too late. Macy had had enough. And I can't really blame her, after everything I put her through over the years. I just wish…"

"What?" James asked, gently.

"A lot of things", Thorne answered. "But mainly I wish that I had trusted the feelings that we had for each other, instead of running in the opposite direction as soon as things got tough."

"And what do you think those feelings were?" James asked.

"Love", Thorne said, almost surprised by how self-evident the answer seemed now. "I think we really did love each other, more than anything. Even though it was never easy. Even though we fought, even though sometimes one of us, or both, lost faith in the relationship. But Macy was always a part of me, in a way I guess she still is."

"Maybe that might be part of the problem", James pointed out thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" Thorne said, confused.

"Well, you asked yourself what to look for in a relationship", James explained. "You told me you doubted if you knew what love was. But, in fact, it sounds like you do have a very specific idea. However, that idea is based completely on your past history with Macy. You can't recreate it. Then, in an attempt to find something you're familiar and comfortable with, you turn to a woman you know to be in love with your brother. You feel second best, and you try to prove yourself to her by being her hero. But she doesn't need to be rescued. So you feel inadequate, maybe a little jealous even. And you wonder if it's really what you want."

Thorne nodded.

"I guess that kind of describes it", he agreed. "But where do I go from here? What do I do?"

"You can't keep doing the same thing and expect a different outcome", James said. "So if you want your situation to change, you have to change the way you think. You need to let go of whatever is keeping you in this pattern, whether it is the memory of Macy, the trauma of Darla's death, or your competitive feelings towards your brother. Open your mind to other possibilities, but don't force it. You may find happiness somewhere you hadn't even considered looking for it."

"That sounds like something out of a fortune cookie!" Thorne observed.

"I don't have all the answers, Thorne", James said, smiling. "But letting go of the past is a good start towards finding the future."

* * *

"God, that Thorne Forrester is even more good-looking in this picture than on TV!"

Pearl put down the copy of _Eye on Fashion _on the counter and helped herself to a beer. The nightclub wouldn't open for another hour and since Luigi was out on business again, the atmosphere was slightly more relaxed than usual. The place was nearly empty save for Pearl, Diana who was sitting at the bar drinking a glass of milk, and Barbara who was on stage rehearsing some new songs with the band.

"What?" Diana said, smiling. "Let me see."

Pearl showed her the article in the magazine.

"'Forrester vs. Forrester'", Diana read. "Sounds like a movie title to me!"

"Yeah", Pearl said. "But isn't he just a dream?"

"Maybe so", Diana said, shrugging. "A bit too old for my taste, though."

"Oh", Pearl said, a bit taken aback. "Sorry, kid. I forgot."

Diana laughed.

"Well, it's an easy mistake to make. I'm pretty big for my age. At least now."

She looked down on her belly and rubbed it fondly. It was true, it was getting quite big.

Suddenly, Diana's thoughts were interrupted by upset voices from the stage. The bass player and Barbara had somehow got into a heated argument.

"Look, Barbie, you're wasting all of our time here!" he shouted. "I think the least you can do is wait until after the gig before getting loaded. The rest of us do. How hard can it be, huh?"

"I don't know where you're getting this", Barbara replied angrily. "I'm fine, I'm just having problems memorizing this one line…"

"You're having problems standing up straight, honey!" the bass player retorted.

"Oh my", Pearl whispered. "This is bad. Just look at her."

"Is it true?" Diana asked, her eyes widening. "It's not even 6 PM, how can she be drunk now?"

"She must have started early", Pearl concluded. "She usually does."

"But Barbara is hardly ever…" Diana objected.

"On the contrary, sweetie", Pearl said, "she drinks like a fish. But she normally hides it better. Especially around you."

Barbara stormed off the stage and walked to the bar. Throwing Pearl and Diana a suspicious glance, she pulled out a small bottle from her purse and unceremoniously took a sip.

"He's impossible today", she stated. "No point trying to reason with him."

Pearl cautiously placed a hand on Barbara's arm.

"Look, Barbie…", she began.

"What?" Barbara snarled. "Come on, Pearl, don't you start too!"

"Barbara, are you all right?" Diana asked quietly.

Barbara looked at Diana briefly, then quickly looked away. In her mind, she cursed herself for picking up the bottle in front of the girl. The last thing that poor kid needed in her condition was one more thing to worry about.

"I'm fine!" she replied, stressing each syllable as she straightened up and pushed her hair back from her face.

That very moment, Luigi entered the nightclub. The man only known as the Boss was with him. They both seemed quite content.

"Hi, Barbie", Luigi purred, going up to her and touching her neck. Barbara backed away jerkily and looked at him coldly.

"What's the matter, honey?" Luigi continued. "I just want to celebrate a bit. Can't you see I'm in a good mood?"

"Why?" Barbara said ironically, nodding in the direction of the Boss. "You just made a good business deal? What is it this time? Drugs? Smuggling? Money laundry? A bank robbery? Or worse? Congratulations, and cheers!"

She reached for her bottle, but before she could get it out of her purse, Luigi had grabbed her firmly by the wrist. He stared at her menacingly, only too aware that the Boss was still in the room and had heard every word.

"Are you crazy, woman?" he hissed, his voice strained and almost frightened. "You need to shut up, right now, if you know what is healthy for you! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Luigi, I understand." Barbara's voice was emotionless, distant.

Luigi shook his head and let go of her wrist.

"I don't think you do", he said.

Then he turned around to see how the Boss had reacted to the scene. But, as usual, the man had vanished quickly and without a trace.


	13. Chapter XIII: On Fashion and Insomnia

**Chapter XIII: On Fashion and Insomnia**

The day they had been preparing for so long had finally come. Thomas and Steffy were busy backstage checking that everything was prepared for their first fashion show since they took over Forrester Creations. The designs were quite modern and youthful, and they promised to reach a whole new target group. Thomas, Caroline and Amber (who had been rehired) had all been working around the clock with their designs, and Steffy had put in long hours managing production and PR. It hadn't been easy, since they had lost a lot of employees to E F Couture, but luckily, some had stayed loyal to the company, especially those among the younger generation, who were excited about the new direction of the management.

And Pam, surprisingly.

Maybe it was the relief that she no longer had to share a desk with Donna that had made her stay even though Eric had left. Or maybe it was the fact that Thomas really seemed to appreciate her lemon bars. Either way, she was still there, doing her best but mostly managing to be in the way. Today, it was her job to receive the audience and give the press an especially warm welcome.

"Oliver?" said Steffy. "Do you have the music under control?"

"Sure!" Oliver confirmed. "And Marcus is running the lighting by Jake as we speak."

"Okay, everyone, can I have your attention, please!" Thomas called out.

Caroline, Amber, Steffy and all the models gathered around him.

"This is it!" Thomas said significantly. "This is the day that we will come into our own. Today, we wow the fashion world and catapult Forrester into the 21st century. So you go out there and show them what the future is all about!"

There was applause and cheers from everyone backstage. The music started and the first set got ready to go out on the runway. Then, Pam showed up out of nowhere, discreetly poking Thomas in the back with her finger.

"Uh, Thomas…" she said, trying to get his attention, but failing.

"Thomas, I think Pam is trying to tell you something", Steffy said.

"Not now!" Thomas said. "We're just about to start."

"Well…" Pam said apologetically, "that's just it. The guests haven't arrived yet."

"What?" Thomas said, startled. "What do you mean?"

Pam nodded towards the runway.

"Take a peek. See for yourself."

Thomas looked out at the auditorium from behind the curtain. A few reporters and buyers had arrived, but most of the chairs were still empty. Taylor was sitting in the front row and caught his eye. She was looking worried. Thomas started to sweat. This was not good. Not good at all. What use was a brilliant collection, if the major fashion magazines weren't there to review it? Where could they be?

"Maybe scheduling our fashion show at the same time as Dad's and Grandpa's wasn't the best idea after all", Steffy observed.

Of course. That's where they all were, covering the first line of E F Couture. Thomas ground his teeth. It was not fair, he thought. What this company had to offer was new, it was fresh, it was exciting! How many haute couture designs by Eric Forrester did the world need, anyway? They couldn't let this ruin their showing - something had to happen!

"We can't postpone it", Steffy said. "Thomas, we have to start right now. It will be even worse if we don't. At least there is some press out there. We have to show them what we've got."

"And what are they going to write about?" Thomas cried bitterly. "That we had a showing, and nobody showed up? Yeah, that makes for a great story!"

"Hey Thomas", Marcus said, "they're getting impatient out there. Well, all seven of them. We need to start right now."

"Okay", Thomas resigned. "Let's do this."

And the first models hit the runway, accompanied by a catchy modern tune.

* * *

"Look at that crowd!" Eric Forrester said, smiling, as he looked at the audience from backstage. "I don't believe it!"

"Well, Dad", Thorne observed, "your great comeback has generated a lot of buzz. We're lucky."

"And we're going to give them one hell of a show!" Ridge said. "They're gonna be completely blown away."

"I hope so, son", Eric said. "God, I wish…"

Thorne and Ridge both put a supportive hand on their father's shoulder. They knew only too well what he wished for. All those countless times he had shared the excitement of a fashion show with Stephanie, watching the crowd with her, pointing out all the important buyers and the elite of the fashion industry… now he was facing them without her by his side.

"Mother would have loved this", Thorne said. "She would have been so proud of you. Of us."

Eric nodded.

"I know", he said.

As the last guest found his seat in the packed showroom, the lights dimmed and the music started. The first set were three evening gowns, designed by Ridge. They were sophisticated but a little daring, and were very well received. Next followed three dresses designed by Eric. These were truly spectacular, and the audience reacted with applause and stunned whispers as soon as they came on the runway.

"They're loving it!" Brooke whispered to Rick, who was watching the show with her from the back of the showroom.

The whole collection was received with increasingly enthusiastic applause. The photographers were crowding around the runway to get the best pictures of the designs, and Jarrett was taking notes like crazy, probably already sensing his next big scoop coming up.

As Ridge was getting the models ready for the last set, his phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered, slightly out of breath.

"Ridge, it's Taylor."

"Taylor?" Ridge said, surprised. "I'm sorry, i don't have time to talk right now…"

"I know, I know, the showing", Taylor said hurriedly. "I guess it is a big success."

"You could say that!" Ridge said enthusiastically.

"I'm glad", Taylor said, sounding a bit subdued.

"What's wrong?" Ridge asked. "Tell me quickly."

"It's just that I'm over at Forrester now, and, well…"

"So how's it going over there?"

"Not well at all", Taylor said, sadly. "The children have worked so hard, and the collection is great, but there's hardly anybody here."

"Oh", Ridge said, "I'm sorry to hear that. But I guess Thomas and Steffy had to have known this could happen when they decided to have their showing on the same day as ours."

"Ridge, they're devastated."

"I know, and I wish it didn't have to come to this. But they forced our hands. Maybe now they'll realize they're too young to run a company on their own."

"Look, the fashion show here is just about finished. I think we need to talk about this. I'm coming over in a little while."

"Okay, Doc", Ridge said, hanging up.

Now he had to get back to work. The final set needed to look perfect!

Eric watched with pride as the showstopper, his showstopper, entered the podium majestically. It was a spectacular wedding gown, one of the best he had ever designed. The crowd turned quiet and watched in awe. Then, as the model made her final turn, she got a standing ovation. Calling Eric, Ridge and the models onto the stage, they all greeted the audience. E F Couture's triumph was complete.

After the showing, the press was eager to get pictures and interviews, and it took quite a while before they had left, allowing the crew for a little celebration of their own in the showroom. Donna passed around glasses of champagne to everyone, and Eric proposed a toast.

"I never thought I would experience a moment like this again at my age", he admitted. "And it's thanks to all of you. I want to thank you for persuading me to do this… this crazy thing."

Everybody chuckled.

"And I am happy that we have shown the entire fashion world tonight that we are still a force to be reckoned with!"

"Hear hear!" Ridge said.

But before he could empty his glass, he caught a glimpse of Taylor standing in the doorway. She had a concerned look in her eyes and motioned to him to come and talk to her.

"Excuse me for a moment", he said. Surprised, Thorne watched him leave the room with Taylor.

Alone in the corridor with her, Ridge took her gently by the arm.

"Doc, it can't possibly be as bad as you think."

"It is, Ridge", Taylor said, shaking her head sadly. "It is worse."

"Well, the kids made a bad business decision, so they have to face the consequences."

"A business decision?" Taylor said. "You think that's what this is all about?"

"What else?" Ridge asked.

"You should have seen Thomas tonight", Taylor said. "He was eager, he was excited. Just like you were when you were younger. He was looking forward to proving himself to the world. And to you. Especially to you."

"I already know he is talented", Ridge said. "That is hardly the point."

"It is to him", Taylor insisted. "And to Steffy. You know how they've always wanted your attention, your love. How that has motivated them to do things that at times seemed crazy. But really, they just want to feel that they matter to you, whatever they do."

Ridge smiled.

"Doc, you're a good mother, and I've always loved that about you. But the kids are adults, and they make their own decisions."

"I'm only saying", Taylor explained, "that right now they may have bitten off more than they could chew, because they felt this urge to prove themselves worthy of your respect. But maybe what they really need to know is that you are there for them as a father. I think the most important thing for us right now is to try to bring the family together, and stop this competition. I wish we could just…"

"Taylor the peacemaker", Ridge said, raising an eyebrow.

"I just hate to see our family torn apart like this", she said. "It's not how it was supposed to be. It's not how we planned it."

"Nothing ever turns out quite the way you plan it, does it?" Ridge asked.

Taylor looked at him. A long look, filled with love and regret.

"No", she said, "it doesn't."

"I agree", Thorne said.

Ridge and Taylor both turned around, startled, as if they had been caught doing something inappropriate. Neither had heard Thorne as he approached.

"Look, Thorne…" Ridge began.

Thorne raised his hand to stop him.

"No, big brother, it's all right", he said. "You don't have to explain. I understand. In fact, I think it has taken me quite a long time to finally understand what's going on."

"Thorne, nothing is going on", Taylor objected.

Thorne smiled.

"I think we both know that isn't true", he said gently. "We have tried for a very long time now to make our relationship work. Can you honestly say that you haven't felt like something wasn't right?"

Taylor was silent. Ridge, feeling a little awkward, offered to leave and let them speak in private, but Thorne held him back.

"No, Ridge", he said, "I think you need to hear this, too".

Ridge stayed.

"Taylor", Thorne continued, "I have been talking to James Warwick lately, and he has helped me realize something I should have discovered a long time ago."

"What is that?" Taylor asked, even though she believed she knew the answer.

"That our relationship can never work if we are not both committed to it", Thorne answered, "and I don't think we are. I have been denying it for long enough, but all I have to do is look at you when you are with Ridge to see that you obviously still love him."

"Thorne", Taylor said sadly, "I'm sorry if I've made you feel…"

"No", Thorne interrupted, "don't be sorry. It's not your fault. And it's not just you, it's me too. I always tend to fall for the women who are in love with Ridge, don't I? It's what I do, and I guess I'll keep doing it, unless I decide that enough is enough."

"What do you mean?" Taylor said, confused.

"I love you, Taylor", Thorne said, "but I think we can both agree that we work better as friends than as lovers. In fact, I'm not sure I'm any good as anybody's lover at the moment. I have realized I have quite a lot of things to work through on my own before I can really commit myself to a relationship again."

"Is this about Darla?" Taylor asked. "Your grief… do you still blame me for what happened?"

"It's a lot of things", Thorne replied. "But mainly it is that I don't want to get caught up in something when I know where it leads. I don't want to end up hurt and lonely again down the road. And I don't want to put Ally through that kind of turbulence if I don't know it will work out in the end."

"So what are you saying, Thorne?" Taylor asked, trying to keep calm. "That it's over between us?"

"I think it never really began", Thorne said. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I'm always going to love you. But we have to stop lying to ourselves. It just wasn't meant to happen for us. It never worked before and it won't now. And maybe this is the best thing for both of us. You're free now, Taylor. You can go after what really makes you happy."

Thorne looked at Ridge significantly, then he walked away without a word. Taylor was left standing there in shock. Then she started to weep softly. Gently, Ridge pulled her into his arms and embraced her.

"It's all right, Doc", he whispered. "It's going to be all right."

* * *

Diana was finally asleep. It had taken quite some time for her to find a comfortable position, since she could no longer sleep on her belly, like she was used to, and the baby had been unusually active this evening. The room was also still quite warm, because it had been a hot early summer's day with temperatures far above average.

Even though she had dozed off, her sleep was not peaceful. Instead, she found herself dreaming, strange, feverish dreams which seemed to possess a warped logic of their own. In her dream, she was standing in the corridor outside her room. She could hear a baby crying somewhere, and she knew with certainty that it was her baby. Following the sound, she descended the stairs and entered the nightclub. It was empty but the lights were on and there was a thick fog of cigarette smoke. Turning around, Diana looked for her baby, but the crying had stopped.

Then, all of a sudden, she saw a big shadow at the bar. It looked like Luigi, but when she examined it more closely, she found that it was, in fact, her foster father. He was holding the baby and grinning.

"Look", he said, "he looks just like his Daddy!"

With a feeling of terror, Diana backed away, afraid to look at the baby. Her foster father laughed, louder and louder. Diana tried to protest.

"You are wrong!" she cried. "He looks like me. He is nothing like you! A child always looks more like its mother."

"How would you know?" Luigi retorted.

Because now, the figure had transformed back to Luigi and the baby had disappeared. Diana realized that he was right - she didn't know that. She didn't even know what her own mother looked like.

"Mother?" she called out, not knowing if anyone would hear her. "You have to come and show yourself to me, to prove that I look just like you! Mom, are you there?"

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the stage. It was a woman, but as she was lit from behind, Diana couldn't make out her face. She could only see that the woman had dark hair just like she did. The woman didn't speak.

"Mom?" Diana called out again.

A spotlight lit up the stage. At once, Diana saw that the woman standing there was, in fact, Barbara (even though it hadn't been her a moment ago). She looked sadly at the girl.

"Your mother isn't here", she said. "And I can't help you. You're on your own, honey."

Diana turned around. She was back in the corridor. It was narrower than she remembered it, and almost unbearably hot now. The walls seemed to be getting closer and closer with every breath that she took, and she was afraid that they might crush her. So she closed her eyes and tried to hold her breath, as her heart started racing. In just a moment, she would feel the pressure of the walls and then it would be over…

The girl woke with a gasp. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest and the sheets were soaked with sweat. The full moon was shining in through the window, making the room seem unnaturally bright. Diana listened. There was not a sound in the building. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"It was just a dream", she whispered. "Just a bad dream."

But she couldn't shake the feeling that it was, somehow, true. What if this baby really did turn out like his father? What if she would never learn who her mother was? What if she couldn't even rely on Barbara anymore? Lately, it had seemed like her friend's behavior had become more and more unpredictable, and now even Diana could see that Pearl had been right - Barbara was inebriated more or less all the time, and it had got to the point where she didn't even try to conceal it anymore. Diana was afraid that their planned "escape" would never happen, and she was afraid that when the time came (and it was not that far away now), she would have to give birth here, alone, with nobody she could count on for support.

The sound of a door opening and shutting broke through the silence. Then there were soft steps along the corridor, followed by the unmistakeable sound of someone walking down the staircase. Curious, Diana decided to follow to see who the second sleepless person might be.

As she walked down the corridor and down the stairs, she was struck by how similar everything was to the dream she had just had. Maybe that was why she was almost a little nervous as she came down to the nightclub - she half expected to see the scene from inside her own mind.

Instead, she found Barbara there, sitting alone at the bar in the moonlight, a newly opened bottle of vodka in her hand. Unaware that she was being watched, she had an expression of endless fatigue and sadness on her face. She took a sip from the bottle, then put it down on the counter with a look of disgust. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sighed deeply as she looked absent-mindedly around the room. That's when she spotted Diana standing by the wall.

Their eyes met awkwardly. Barbara opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again in silence. Diana took a deep breath.

"I couldn't sleep", she said, trying to sound casual.

"Neither could I", Barbara answered. "It's the heat. And the… the moon."

Barbara motioned vaguely towards the window. Diana walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool next to her. They didn't speak for a while, and Diana did her best to avoid looking at the bottle on the counter. Sensing the other's discomfort, Barbara finally spoke.

"It's not what you think", she said defensively.

"I'm not thinking anything", Diana said.

"I know… I know what it must look like", Barbara continued, "me sitting here alone, drinking vodka in the middle of the night…"

Diana didn't answer.

"You've been talking to Pearl, right?" Barbara asked, uneasily. "What's she been saying about me?"

"Not much", Diana said. "Just that you drink a lot."

"She doesn't understand", Barbara said quietly.

"What?" the girl asked.

"Why I do it. It's like… I read somewhere once that when some old people get dementia, it's horrible for them in the early stages because then they still understand enough to know what's happening to them, that they are losing their minds. When the disease gets worse, they sink so deep into oblivion that they don't realize just how bad it is, and then it feels less painful."

"I don't really follow you."

"I feel like I'm losing my mind. Like I've already lost it. Over and over again, I try to make sense of my life, I try to remember things from the past, but every time, it's like hitting my head against a brick wall. It's just not there. All the things Luigi remembers about me, I don't have a clue about. And sometimes, I get these strange random scenes in my head instead, that make no sense to me at all. I think it's just my brain playing tricks on me. It's driving me insane!"

Barbara paused to take another sip from the vodka bottle.

"Except for when I'm drinking", she continued softly. "If I only drink enough, I can forget for a little while about all those things that I don't remember. I can feel normal again, like there is nothing wrong with me."

Diana didn't know what to answer. She wasn't used to seeing Barbara this vulnerable, and it frightened her. Sensing what the girl was thinking, Barbara addressed her again:

"I'm sorry I have let you down", she said. "I made you depend on me to look after you when I can't even look after myself. I'm sorry."

"That's not true…" Diana objected.

"It is. Look, you should leave this place now. I think there's enough money to get you out of town if you have to, if you don't want to be found, but find yourself some real help. A hospital, a shelter, something like that. The baby could be due in, what, a month or so? Do you even know how far along you are?"

"No. But I don't want to leave on my own. And what about you?"

Barbara laughed bitterly.

"I'm not much use to you", she said. "If you should get anyone to help you, Pearl would probably be a better choice. She's together. She could manage…"

"I don't trust her", Diana said. "I trust you."

"Really?" Barbara said incredulously, looking from the girl to the vodka bottle and back again.

Diana reflected for a second.

"Yes", she finally said.

"Then God help us."

Diana smiled faintly.

"Do you really think He will?" she asked.

"I think so", Barbara said, smiling back. "I think that when you need it the most, there is some great benevolent power that will help you out."

"What, like a tall guy in the sky, with a long white beard?" Diana said, raising her eyebrows. "Like Gandalf?"

"Yeah, maybe so", Barbara laughed. "Or maybe it's a big lady with red hair, who knows?"

"Really?"

"Not literally", Barbara admitted. "I just think when we try to picture God we choose an image that we connect with love and security… like a protective parent."

"In that case", Diana said sadly, "I wouldn't know what to imagine."

* * *

In a town not far away, the brown-haired woman had just settled into a small apartment she had rented. Her attempts at finding the newspaper article about the missing Diana Carter had been fruitless so far. The previous day, she had visited the local library only to find that they didn't keep copies of newspapers more than two or three months old. It seemed like the search would be a dead end, besides, she didn't even know if the girl in question was the right one.

She looked out of the window onto the moonlit street below. The world was a cruel place, she thought. She had always known that. There was no compassion, no understanding, no justice, no love.

The woman thought back to the day when her little baby girl had been taken away from her. They had been running from the law for such a long time, and it had finally caught up with them. When the social workers had come to take her child away, she had pleaded with them to contact the father. He was a wealthy man, no, more than wealthy, a multi-billionaire, he could provide for the girl and give her the life she deserved. But nobody would believe a word she was saying. They wouldn't listen to her. Instead, her daughter was placed in foster care somewhere, and she was thrown back in prison, even though everything that happened had been just an accident. It hadn't been her fault. She had never meant to shoot anyone, she just wanted to make sure her other daughter, Mary, had a good life.

"They didn't understand", the woman said to herself. "None of them did. James, Eric, Stephanie, Brooke, Ridge, Taylor, Massimo… they all just thought about themselves and their precious sheltered lives. They couldn't let anything disrupt their perfect little existence! And who has had to pay the price? Me! They took everything from me. I lost both my daughters. I lost my freedom!"

It was true, she would still be in prison today if she hadn't found a way to escape. A way to outsmart all of them through an elaborate plan. With the help of several accomplices, she had managed to regain her freedom and stage her own death, allowing her time to build a new life under several assumed names. But she had never forgotten baby Diana, that beautiful dark-haired child who looked so much like her. And she had never stopped trying to find out what had become of her daughter.

Because once it had entered her mind, Sheila Carter never let go of an idea.


	14. XIV: The Secret Life of Thorne Forrester

**Chapter XIVa: The Secret Life of Thorne Forrester**

"Dad, I'm going for a swim, are you coming?" Alexandria's cheerful voice shouted through the open French windows leading onto the deck.

"Not yet, honey", Thorne replied from within, "I have some work to catch up on. Maybe later. Remember to put sunscreen on and be careful not to swim too far from the shore, and don't…"

"Dad. Relax. Breathe." Alexandria said pedagogically. "Boy, you really need a break!"

Thorne laughed.

"Yeah, I know", he said. "But orders have been pouring in ever since the showing, and I'm having a hard time keeping up with them."

"I'd let them wait if it was me. Well, suit yourself."

With those words, Alexandria ran for the beach. Thorne was left with his papers and figures, and a nagging feeling that maybe his daughter was right (she was usually right). All work and no play… Buyers, numbers, fabrics, foreign distributors. Where was the fun in that? Thorne sighed deeply and went back to work. It was his job, his responsibility, to make sure all the problems and difficulties in production got ironed out.

"So, you're the head ironer?" he mumbled to himself.

Head ironer. That's what he was and what he had always been at Forrester. Thorne made sure things ran smoothly. He was good and conscientious. He kept everything nice and tidy. He ironed things out. Who was it who had invented that, somehow very fitting, title for him? He searched his memory. Surely, it must have been someone who knew him well...

Of course. It was Macy. And she had said it, as a joke, only a few minutes after he had introduced himself to her, while they were locked together in a stateroom on the Queen Mary. He had learnt, much later, that Sally Spectra had arranged that whole "chance encounter", and that she had intended for Ridge to end up locked in that stateroom with her daughter. By a mere coincidence, Thorne had gone there instead. It was strange to imagine how little it takes to change a person's whole life… like merely being in the right place at the right time. Or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Immediately, Thorne was transported back in time to that fateful evening at Ozzz. What an asinine name for a nightclub, by the way. And the owner, Oscar Marone, obviously hadn't taken it seriously. At least, not seriously enough. Because on opening night a huge chandelier had fallen onto the stage, simply because some shady former business partners of his were trying to intimidate him. And Macy had been exactly, precisely, in the wrong place. That is, directly underneath it.

She had died without ever regaining consciousness.

Thorne tried to turn his attention back to the figures in front of him, but to no avail. They were all blurry and indistinct, much less clear than the memories that flooded him now. Even since his session with James, and his subsequent breakup with Taylor, he had found himself reminiscing about the past more and more, and especially about his time with Macy. It was as if he hadn't allowed himself to really think about it before, and now it finally all came back to him with full force. The love. The laughs. The heated arguments. The highs and the lows. That deep connection he had never experienced with anybody else. Those countless times when the dice had seemed loaded against them, and the rare moments when they had triumphed against all odds. The music.

Their music! He had buried all traces of it in a box in the spare room above the garage, never intending to revisit that part of his life again. It was not that he was ashamed of it, on the contrary. But he had never been quite honest with Alexandria about his relationship with Macy, since he was afraid that if he did, she would start asking more specific questions about the chronology of things, or even worse, discover it on her own by searching online. And he didn't know how to tell her the truth about how she was conceived - that she was the result of a drunken one night stand and that the mother she had adored had become pregnant by betraying her best friend. That Darla had felt so guilty about it that she had first very nearly had an abortion, and then been on the verge of giving up her baby to Macy. Instead, Thorne had always said that "Aunt Macy", whom Alexandria was named after, had been a close friend of his and Darla's, which was true, as far as it went. However, all the music, the CDs, the newspaper clippings, the photos and other things from that period spoke for themselves. Someday, Thorne would show all that to Alexandria, and then he'd have to explain everything to her, without exception. He just wasn't sure if she was ready to hear it quite yet.

There was also another reason why Thorne had tucked away those memories into the darkest corner of the house. He knew that if he brought them out into the light, they would threaten to swallow him. They might come to life with an intensity that he wasn't sure if he could handle. Because, strangely, even though he had lost Darla more recently, thinking about Macy frightened him more.

Meanwhile, Alexandria had come back from her swim and settled down in a deckchair with a glass of lemonade. Since it was a very hot and sunny day in July, she had pulled the chair into the shade and was preparing for a few lazy hours with a good book she had been reading.

Suddenly, there was a cracking sound from underneath her and she found herself dropping onto the ground, hitting her back as she did so. The deckchair had broken. Annoyed, Alexandria rose to her feet to examine the damage. She seemed to be in one piece, but the deckchair was not. Apparently, the wooden frame had split and there was no fixing it. She looked around. There was no other chair in sight. Luckily, she knew that her father used to keep a few spare deckchairs above the garage, and going up there to get another one would only be a few minutes. Alexandria decided to go to the spare room immediately.

It was dark in there, as there was only one small window with the blinds closed, but the room was still hot and stuffy since the sun had been shining onto the roof above all day. Alexandria opened the window to let in some air and light. Then she looked around. Where were those deckchairs? She was sure she had seen them here the last time she checked, which was a couple of months ago, when they had gone up there looking for sheet music. Trying to recall whee she had seen the chairs, she went over to the box where they had found the music and looked around.

Sure enough, from where she was now standing she could clearly see two deckchairs leaned against a wall in a distant corner of the room. Making her way there, she had to navigate between piles of boxes and old furniture, but when she finally reached her goal, she discovered that the chairs seemed intact. Not knowing for sure if they would support her weight, she decided to bring both of them downstairs to double her chances of success.

However, when she picked up the deckchairs, she discovered something that piqued her curiosity. Behind the chairs, placed close to the wall, there was a brown cardboard box. At first sight, it seemed just like every other box in the room, and there were many of them. But most of them had labels or some other kind of visible indication as to what they contained. This had none. There was also something about the placement of the box that seemed strange. Before Alexandria had removed the chairs, it had been completely hidden by them, even though it meant that the chairs took up a lot more space by the wall than necessary. Almost, she thought, as if it had been done on purpose.

Putting the chairs aside, Alexandria bent over the cardboard box and opened it carefully, feeling a little of the excitement of someone who had discovered a long lost treasure.

The first thing she picked out from the box was an old CD. Holding it up to the light, she could see that the cover was a photo of a man who looked like her father (or a much younger version of him), and a brown-haired woman. The text on the cover revealed that the man was indeed Thorne Forrester, and the woman was Macy Alexander. Of course - Macy, Alexandria's mother's best friend. She had been a singer. Alexandria even remembered vaguely having heard Darla play a CD of some of her music when she was very little. But what was her father doing there? He had never told her anything about the two of them singing together. Was this just another part of the mystery of Thorne's secret career as a pop star? Alexandria was getting more and more interested, sensing now that there was a whole period of her father's life that she knew nothing about.

"Why hasn't he told me anything about this?" Alexandria asked herself. "This is so cool!"

She kept digging into the box, finding several more CDs and a whole bunch of newspaper clippings regarding a concert tour to the Netherlands, complete with some promotion photos of the duo. Apparently, Alexandria thought, they were being promoted as a kind of couple since they were singing mostly love duets, because the pictures were all sort of romantic in character.

"I wonder what Mom thought about that", Alexandria mused.

Alexandria kept browsing the newspaper clippings. Most of them were quite similar. Then a few words in one of them caught her eye. Just a fragment of a phrase:

"Thorne and Macy Forrester will be performing…"

That couldn't be right. It must be a misprint. Alexandria looked at the article more closely. No, there it was again - "Mr and Mrs Forrester are singing…"

"That can't be", Alexandria told herself. "Dad would have told me if they were married. Why wouldn't he want me to know that? I mean, this was obviously before he met Mom…"

But then she found another picture. This one was a private one, taken at what was clearly a wedding. Darla was in it, as well as Macy, Thorne, Alexandria's grandparents, her godmother Sally and an old grey-haired man she didn't recognize. But Alexandria's mother was not the bride. Macy was.

Alexandria was very confused now. Somehow, all this didn't fit with what her father had told her about how he met her mother. Or rather, he hadn't really told her all that much. She looked at the picture. Thorne and Macy looked very happy, very much in love. How was it that he could have married her, and then somehow ended up with Darla instead? What had happened in between? What else didn't she know?

She searched the box for more answers, but found only things that confirmed what she had already discovered. Thorne and Macy had been husband and wife at some point, many years ago. They had also performed together in concerts and recorded several CDs. But, obviously, the marriage had ended. Maybe that's why her father had stopped singing, Alexandria thought, picking up a photo of the two of them, taken during a concert. They appeared to be having so much fun on stage - of course they did, it must be awesome to sing in front of so many people. Alexandria knew for certain she had never seen that look in her father's eyes while he was working in the basement at Forrester. He certainly hadn't looked like that when she had left him with his paperwork just now. But there had been occasions… yes, for example, when Thorne had sung for her after she had asked him to teach her how to play the piano, she had seen something of that joy on his face. It was a pity he didn't sing more often.

No, there was not any more information to be found here, Alexandria decided. But she had the feeling she had stumbled upon a mystery, and she needed to find out more about her father's past life.

"It's a good thing I live in a modern world", she told herself.

She ran downstairs to get her phone, completely forgetting about the deckchairs as she went. A quick web search led her to an article on Wikipedia, where she could read all about the careers of her father and his then wife. There was also some information about their personal lives, probably gathered from tabloids. Apparently, Thorne and Macy had been married three times. Three times? That was insane. Or maybe not, Alexandria thought, remembering just how many times some other members of this family had been married and divorced to the same people. According to the article, their last marriage had ended only a few months before Macy's tragic death, and less than a year before Alexandria was born. Alexandria checked the dates again. In fact, it had ended just about six months before she was born. But that meant…

"No", Alexandria said out loud. "That can't be. This date is wrong."

She quickly did another search, trying to find another site that would contradict the first. Instead, she ended up looking at an old story on Eye on Fashion's website which only confirmed the dates. Thorne must have been with her mother while he was still married to Macy.

Alexandria felt cold inside. Her mother, her wonderful, sweet, loving mother, would never… And her dad! He had always been her hero, even though she would never admit that to him unless she could make it sound like she was joking. He wouldn't lie to her about something like this. There must be some other explanation, she thought. She would have to ask her father about it right now.

Thorne was still trying to get some work done, but he found it extremely hard to focus. The heat was almost unbearable today, and there was something wrong with the air conditioning. And he still couldn't get these thoughts out of his head. His mind wandered back again to memories of past years…

So when his daughter burst into the room unceremoniously, throwing the door open, Thorne was startled. But his initial surprise was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he heard Alexandria speak:

"Dad, why did you divorce Macy?"

"Honey, what…" Thorne stammered, trying to regain his composure.

"I know you guys were married. And I know it ended just a couple of months before I was born. So what happened?"

"Ally, that's a very long and complicated story", Thorne began. "I'm not sure you…"

"I'm not a little kid, Dad", Alexandria said reproachfully. "I want to know the truth, at least if it has anything to do with me or my mother. Does it?"

Thorne took a deep breath. The day he had dreaded for so long had finally come, too soon.

"Yes, Ally, it does", he admitted.

Alexandria turned pale.

"So you and Mom… while you were married to someone else?"

"It wasn't like that", Thorne explained. "Macy and I were separated at the time. It was a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding?"

"Ally, why don't we just sit down for a while…" Thorne began.

"I don't want to sit down, I want the truth right now!" Alexandria cried. "I'm not a kid, I can handle the truth. I don't know why everyone keeps thinking I need to be protected from what's real. I didn't get to go to my own mother's funeral because you were too afraid to tell me she had died, I didn't get to go to Grandma's goodbye party because you thought it might be too upsetting for me, and now you have lied to me about this, too? Well, I'm not stupid! I get that horrible things happen, and they don't magically disappear just because I'm not told about them!"

"I had no idea you felt that way, about Darla and Grandma, I mean", Thorne said sadly. "And I admit I was wrong to keep those things from you. They are tough things to face even for an adult, and I guess I just didn't know how to handle them myself."

"Can't you just tell me the truth this time?" Alexandria pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "And not some nice kid-friendly version of it. Talk to me as if I was a grown-up. Please?"

Thorne looked at his daughter. All he ever wanted was to shelter her from everything that was bad, to protect her, to let her be an innocent child in spite of the tragic loss she had suffered. But here she was, standing before him, begging to be taken into his confidence like an equal. And he realized he was the one feeling like a child.

"First of all", he said, "there is one thing I want you to know. Ally, I love you more than anything. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and even though the circumstances surrounding how you came into this world were complicated, I couldn't be happier to be your father."

Alexandria listened attentively. Her father continued:

"The truth is, yes, I was married to Macy. And we were having problems. I thought for sure she was leaving me. So one night, Darla came to my place and we started talking. And we… we got drunk. That's… that's when you…"

"I don't get it. Dad, you were married!"

"I know. I know. At the time, I really believed the marriage was over. But I was wrong - I made a mistake."

"A mistake…" Alexandria repeated tonelessly. "So I was a mistake?"

"No, honey", Thorne said quickly, "that is not what I meant!"

"It's what you said", Alexandria said. "And when Macy found out about it, about me I mean, she divorced you. Right?"

Thorne nodded. Alexandria plucked up the courage to ask the next question. The important one.

"So", she said, "if Macy hadn't dumped you, would you still have got together with my mom?"

"Ally, I loved your mother very much", Thorne said. "We had a very happy marriage."

"But would you have chosen her over Macy? If you could have had the choice? Would you have left her to be a family with Mom and me?"

"I would never, ever, have abandoned you", Thorne said emphatically. "Besides, since neither of them is here now, this is all hypothetically speaking…"

"But, hypothetically speaking, would you have left her?" Alexandria insisted.

"No", Thorne admitted.

"So she mattered more to you than I did", Alexandria concluded.

"No!" Thorne said. "No, it wasn't like that at all. I wanted to be your father, I wanted to raise you. My idea was that you would live with me and Macy."

"What about Mom?" Alexandria asked, confused.

"She was fine with that", Thorne explained. "Darla loved you very, very much. She wanted you to have the best childhood possible. She wanted you to grow up in a loving stable home with two parents, and she felt that Macy and I could provide that for you."

"But you didn't have a stable home", Alexandria said. "You were getting a divorce. I don't understand any of this."

"Well, it was what Darla and I had planned. We were hoping everything would work out for the best. But when Macy found out the whole truth, that I was the father of Darla's child, she wanted nothing to do with either of us."

"When she found out…" Alexandria reflected. "So, you lied to her, too? I don't believe this! Don't you ever just tell the truth? Why do you…"

"Ally", Thorne said, trying to calm his daughter down.

"No, stop!" Alexandria screamed. "I don't even know anything about you! You keep hiding things from me and now you want to act like it doesn't matter and that we can just go on as if nothing happened. As if I wasn't a 'mistake' to you. Well, I guess it's me that should apologize! I'm sorry for messing up your life, and I'm sorry for breaking up your marriage!"

"Ally…" Thorne said again, pleadingly.

But the girl had already stormed into her own room, slamming the door shut behind her. Thorne could hear her sobbing behind the closed door. He thought it best to leave her alone. Had he done the right thing, telling her the truth? Now that she had already discovered some of the facts on her own, she would have found out the rest anyway, one way or another, he reasoned. But maybe he could have phrased it differently? Used different words to make it easier? Omitted some details, added some others?

He wished Darla had been here. She would have known how to talk to their daughter, what to say to make her feel better. But even she could not have changed the facts. And those facts had hurt Alexandria, and Thorne's relationship with her, in a way that he didn't know how to fix.

* * *

**Chapter XIVb: Scheherazade**

Barbara was at the bar again. She looked down into her glass of whisky with a melancholy expression on her face. It was no good. Even the alcohol couldn't silence her thoughts and worries, they were only too real, too tangible. Now, of all times, when she had to keep a cool head, she felt like she was gradually losing her mind. A young girl and her unborn child were depending on her. They needed her to help them get out of this place, but she wasn't sure if she could do it. She had finally saved enough money to pay for the tickets, but if they were going to be able to buy food and other necessities of life, there was still not enough to keep them going for more than a day or two. Yet, time was against them. They had to leave before the baby was born, get out of town, find a hospital to get proper medical care. It was too risky to stay here, since Luigi had refused point blank to let them contact a doctor or a nurse, because he was afraid the authorities might start asking questions concerning Diana's age and condition. But leaving would not be without problems, either. One of which, Barbara feared, would be her. Somewhere in the back of her head she had a notion that she really shouldn't be responsible for anyone, least of all a child. Her mind wasn't working properly these days. Most of the time, she felt slow and confused, or inexplicably anxious. Maybe there was some truth to Pearl's repeated accusations after all. Maybe she should cut back on the booze. At least for a while, until this thing was over and done with.

"I will finish this one glass, but I won't have a second", she promised herself. And to strengthen her resolve, she took a sip.

Luigi was standing at the other end of the bar with the Boss. They had apparently met there to discuss some business deal. Barbara didn't know what it was, but she suspected that they were up to no good, as usual. She threw them a resentful glance, but they didn't seem to take notice of her. The Boss was leaning towards Luigi and speaking some words to him, using their native tongue Italian to make sure that they were not overheard by the wrong people.

But Barbara heard them.

It surprised her greatly that she could understand what they were saying, as she had no recollection of ever learning Italian. Nevertheless, she found she could follow their conversation quite effortlessly. At first, it seemed to concern the business deal they were just in the process of sealing. It had something to do with a delivery that was due the next day, a very important transaction of some kind. Barbara knew that it was best in these cases to see no evil and hear no evil, so she was just about to let her attention wander elsewhere when she heard the Boss saying to Luigi, still in Italian:

"That woman of yours is becoming a problem, you can't let it go on."

Barbara stiffened and looked intently and deliberately down into her whisky while perking up her ears.

"Look at her", the Boss continued. "Look at the scenes she's been making. She has no judgment, no restraint. She's drunk all the time. And who knows when she'll start blabbering about our business, or about going to the police, in front of the wrong people?"

"Look, Boss", Luigi said in a tense voice, "I don't think that's going to happen."

"That's your emotions speaking, Luigi, not your reason. Just like when you convinced us to let her live in the first place."

Barbara's heart started beating faster. Had she really heard that right?

"You know as well as I do", the Boss continued, "that we don't want to leave any witnesses when we do a piece of work."

"She wasn't a witness, she was unconscious!" Luigi objected.

"As far as you know", the Boss said. "She may still have seen something."

"That's ridiculous!" Luigi said. "Do you really think she would have stayed with me for two years knowing that we bumped off her old man?"

Feeling her knees starting to give way, Barbara sat down on a stool. She tried to get a sip of whisky to calm her nerves, but she had to give up the attempt because her hand was shaking so badly she was sure somebody would notice. She forced herself to keep listening.

"Why you decided to take her with you I'll never know", the Boss said. "You know she's a loose cannon. She has been from the start. All it would take is for her to start remembering her past life and all her loyalty to you will fly out the window, if it hasn't already."

"What do you mean?" Luigi said, uncomfortably.

"I'm just saying", the Boss said ominously, "that she's your problem. And I am counting on you to solve it, soon. We can't take any chances in this business. Don't get sentimental, my friend. It is too dangerous. You need to see her for what she is - a potential leak."

"I understand, Boss", Luigi said faintly. "I will take care of it."

"Good", the Boss said approvingly. "I trust that you will. Goodbye."

The Boss left. Barbara sensed it rather than saw it, as she was still looking into her glass, trying to process what she had just heard. She felt as if someone had taken the picture she had in her mind of what she thought was real, and violently ripped it apart. These people… who were they really? Who was she? All she knew was that they had, by their own admission, murdered her father. And now Luigi had been told to do the same to her. Would he?

The soft touch of fingers caressing her neck made her start. She turned around. It was Luigi. He looked at her tenderly. She tried to look back at him, doing her best to conceal the terror that had grabbed hold of her. How much time did she have? Would he give her an hour? Until tomorrow? Next week?

"I love you, Barbie", he said, very softly, almost as if he was on the brink of tears.

Then he stroked her hair gently. Barbara closed her eyes and bit her lip, her mind racing uncontrollably.

"Darling, what would you say about you and me going upstairs for a little while?" Luigi suggested, smiling fondly at her and still caressing her hair as he spoke. "I promise, you will have a good time, I will do everything in my power to satisfy you, to… to make you happy. I want to do that for you, Barbie. I know I have been difficult lately, I have been busy and taking it out on you, and I'm sorry about that. Let's… let's have some time together, just you and me…"

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, almost protectively. She could hear him struggling to control his breathing, obviously fighting back some strong emotion.

"Oh, God, he's going to do it", Barbara thought. "He's going to kill me, tonight."

She tried to look around. Was there anyone in the nightclub who could help her? Anyone whom she could count on as an ally? No, she thought. They were all working for Luigi. And even if they didn't like him, they were afraid of him. None of them would ever take her side if it meant standing up against him.

Except possibly Diana. The thought struck Barbara like a cold shower. The girl had to be kept out of this at all costs! And she had to get out of there. If only Barbara could get to Diana before it was too late, tell her to leave now, to leave alone if she had to… because once Barbara was not there, there was no telling what Luigi might do to the girl, especially if she were to witness something… unfortunate.

Just then, there was a sound from the stage. The bass player had started warming up. Barbara freed herself from Luigi's embrace with a sigh of relief.

"Not now, Luigi", she said casually. "I've got to sing. The band will kill me if I don't get up there right away."

Luigi looked at her in surprise, and then looked towards the stage. The musicians were standing there, waiting impatiently. With a shrug, he let go of Barbara with a nod.

"You go do what you have to do", he said. "We'll continue this in private, afterwards."

Barbara got on stage, greeting the musicians as she did so. Then, with a smile that took all the strength in her to produce, she turned towards the audience. The nightclub was full tonight, and there was quite a cheerful crowd sitting around the table closest to the stage.

"Hi everybody, are you having a good time?" Barbara shouted happily.

The crowd shouted back at her and applauded. They seemed unusually alert tonight.

"Great!" Barbara said, adjusting her microphone stand. "I hope you're up for some good music!"

More shouts and applause.

"Okay", she said, "here goes…"

The band started playing, and Barbara began singing. She put all of her heart and soul into the music, praying that the crowd would like it, that they would want to hear more, that they would keep asking for encores. Because she knew that as long as she was singing, she was safe. Luigi would not do anything to her while everyone was watching. So she sang, knowing that her life depended on it.

Everyone in the room seemed to notice that something was different with Barbara tonight. Normally, as Pearl would observe, this clientele was not here for the music, but now, there was not an eye in the room that wasn't directed towards the singer. She held them all captive with her voice, and most of all Luigi. Throughout her performance, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Now and then, he took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Barbara would notice it from where she was standing and respond by directing even more of her energy, of her music, of the emotion in her voice, towards him, in a veiled plea for him to let her live to sing another song.

Midnight. Barbara had the people in the nightclub wrapped around her little finger, and singing along with her upbeat tunes. Even Luigi found himself smiling at her. She seemed so carefree tonight, so full of life, he thought. This was how he would always want to remember her.

1 AM. The happy crowd was still cheering and asking for more. Barbara and the band were taking requests from the audience. Diana, who had tried to go to bed but found that she couldn't sleep with all the noise going on downstairs, showed up in her nightgown and listened for a while. She requested "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", which Barbara sang to her. Then the girl went back up to her bedroom and must have succeeded in falling asleep, because she didn't come back down again.

2 AM. Some of the people in the club were starting to get a little too inebriated to get very involved in the music, and Barbara had switched to slow ballads. A couple of the guests were dozing off, while others were still listening. Luigi was still watching Barbara. She was amazing, he pondered. Here she was, singing for hours on end without a rest, and still it was like she could keep going indefinitely if she wanted to. Barbara herself had lost track of how long she had been singing, and found herself in a world of her own, where time stood still and there was nothing but endless music. All that mattered to her was staying inside that small world, clinging to it with everything she had, because outside it, there was only darkness.

3 AM. The musicians were getting tired and threw furtive glances at their watches. Barbara noticed this, but begged them repeatedly to keep playing, "just one more song". They shook their heads and relented, time and time again. Meanwhile, the crowd was finally starting to leave. Tomorrow was, after all, a weekday and some of them actually had jobs. Bob had started tidying up in the bar and Luigi was preparing to close the nightclub as soon as the last guests had left. The bass player, whose fingers were getting sore, decided enough was enough and stated to the remaining audience that they would be taking one final request. His choice of words startled Barbara. Then Luigi spoke:

"I have one final request" he said.

Barbara looked at him, suddenly feeling how tired and empty she felt. She couldn't do it anymore. She had tried to postpone the inevitable for so long, but it was clear she couldn't put it off indefinitely.

"Okay, Luigi, what do you want to hear?" she asked calmly.

"I'd like you to sing 'Smile' for me. It was my mother's favorite song. She played it to me all the time when I was little."

"Fine, Luigi, 'Smile' it is", the bass player said. "Barbie, you know this, right?"

Barbara nodded silently. Then the band started playing, and she sang:

_Smile though your heart is aching,  
Smile even though it's breaking.  
When there are clouds in the sky  
you'll get by._

_If you smile through your fear and sorrow  
Smile and maybe tomorrow…_

Barbara broke off abruptly, unable to go on. The fear had caught hold of her again, constricting her throat like a rope. She thought of what was about to happen, just in a moment, as soon as she was alone with Luigi.

"I'm sorry, I can't sing any more tonight", she excused herself. "I am tired, I'm confusing the lyrics. I'll sing it to you tomorrow instead, Luigi."

She looked at him, trying to read his face, trying desperately to see how he would react to her using the word "tomorrow". He merely smiled at her.

"Okay, Barbie", he said. "I'm exhausted. Let's close this place up and go to bed."

Several times during the night, Luigi rose and paced the bedroom, stopping repeatedly in front of Barbara's sleeping figure and watching it closely. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, he thought. So innocent, and much younger than when she was awake. It was no wonder he had fallen in love with her the first time he had seen her like that. And now when he looked at her, he found it very hard to imagine disrupting that peaceful image. Yet, he thought, this might be the most humane way to do it. He always kept weapons close at hand, and had at least four of them in this very room right now. Nothing would be easier than getting out a gun, putting it to her head, and gently pulling the trigger. She wouldn't have to wake up, she would never even know what happened. But every time Luigi had that thought, something else held him back. It was the memory of Barbara on that stage tonight. The look on her face, the tone of her voice as she was singing, the way he had felt when watching her. Luigi knew that he had to do what the Boss had asked of him, there was no way around it, but the temptation to put it off just a little, just for another day, for the chance to see her smile one last time, and to hear her sing one last time, was just too great. Every time Luigi found himself standing by Barbara's bedside that night, he ended up retreating and going back to bed, leaving her unharmed.

Several times during the night, Barbara was aware of Luigi moving around in the room. Every time she felt him rising from the bed, she kept her eyes shut and tried to take deep, calm breaths, so that he wouldn't know that she was awake. Because she was awake. It would have been impossible for her to get even a moment of sleep tonight, but she was afraid to move, afraid to speak to Luigi, or look at him, or do anything that might disrupt whatever frail balance had kept him from killing her already. So every time he rose, she just lay there motionless, waiting with closed eyelids, trying to interpret his every move. Sometimes, he seemed to approach her and just stand still by her, so close that she could almost feel his breath. He would stand there, for several minutes, and Barbara felt sure then that he was struggling with his conscience and preparing to finish her off any moment. But he did nothing. Instead, he returned to bed, and every time he did, she could feel him touching her cheek ever so lightly as he lay down beside her, as if to make sure she was still there.


	15. Chapter XV: The Great Escapes

**Chapter XV: The Great Escapes**

It was early morning, but already the sun was burning hot outside. Alexandria listened at the door - it seemed like her father wasn't up yet. Good. Then he wouldn't try to stop her.

All night, her father's words from yesterday had echoed inside her head. A mistake. She had been a mistake. She had not come into this world, like she had always assumed, to two loving parents who wanted nothing more than a baby to make their lives complete. Instead, she had been the result of an illicit affair, a shameful secret that had to be kept from the betrayed wife. And Alexandria's existence had not brought people together, it had torn them apart and caused chaos! Her father had tried to tell her that he loved her, that he didn't regret having her, but was he really telling the truth? Was he not, once again like those times before, lying to make her feel better?

Alexandria thought back to the old pictures she had found. She had seen a different Thorne Forrester there. Younger, happier, more carefree, living a life that fulfilled him. Had she ruined that? Was it her fault? Had he even ever wanted children or was that just something he had had to accept because he couldn't change it, and then tried to make the best of the situation? She knew her father. He wouldn't have had the heart to turn his back on his own flesh and blood. He would have taken his responsibility, even if it meant making sacrifices. Was that all she was to him? A sacrifice?

Wiping away a few tears, she thought back to all the good times she and her father had spent together, in this house, at her grandparents', at Dayzees, on the beach… Never once had she suspected that she hadn't been wanted. But now, she didn't know what to believe anymore, or whom to trust. She picked up her backpack, opened it and checked one last time.

Toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, some money, a phone, a couple of sandwiches, some fruit and a change of clothes. Was that all she would need? Looking around her room, she saw her favorite doll sitting in a chair, a beautiful old porcelain doll with curly brown hair and blue eyes. She was too big for playing with dolls now, of course, but it had been her dearest possession for many years when she was little. Her godmother Sally had given it to her as a birthday present long ago. Gently, she picked up the doll and put it in her backpack.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, Alexandria opened her bedroom window and climbed out onto the deck outside. After one last look into her room, she turned around and started walking away. She didn't know where to go, or what to do, or even if this was really what she wanted, she just knew that she couldn't stay and listen to more lies.

The sun was burning on her face as she walked aimlessly along the beach.

She should have brought a hat.

* * *

Diana had woken up early today beacuse of the heat. It was always more difficult to sleep these days, especially with her big belly in the way. Part of her couldn't wait until the baby was born and she could have her old body back. But then again, the thought of giving birth frightened her terribly. She didn't know anyone who had actually done it, but she had read that it was very painful, and there might be a lot of blood and things. Besides, then she would be a mother, and how would she manage that? She was barely fourteen years old.

The girl went downstairs to get a glass of orange juice from the kitchen. The nightclub was empty and completely quiet. It all seemed so peaceful, compared to the noisy crowd that had filled the place last night. The first few hours, all the sounds from downstairs had distracted her so much that she had had to go down there and find out what was going on, but later the sounds of chatting, chairs moving and people walking across the floor had merged with the music and Barbara's soothing voice, and Diana had fallen asleep.

There was a sudden knock on the window. A man in a light grey suit and dark sunglasses was standing outside in the bright sunshine, pointing impatiently towards the door. Diana ran and opened it. The man looked at her doubtfully.

"I'm here to see Luigi", the man said. "Business. He's expecting me. Is this the right place?"

"Yes, Luigi owns this place", Diana confirmed. "But I don't think he's up yet."

"Well, get him up, then!" the man insisted in a rude tone. "It's important, I can't wait all day. Go, pronto!"

Diana didn't dare to disobey him. She went back upstairs as fast as she could and knocked on Luigi's door. He wouldn't be happy to be disturbed, but she had no choice.

"What?" Luigi's voice roared from inside.

"It's just me", Diana said apologetically.

"What do you want? You should know better by now than bother me when you're not asked for!" Luigi said.

"Sorry. There's a man downstairs to see you. He says it's important business", Diana continued breathlessly.

The door opened and Luigi showed up, looking worse than usual. He had grabbed a nightgown and was fumbling with it as he went past Diana and hurried down the stairs. Diana peeked into the bedroom. Barbara was still in bed, but when she saw Diana standing in the doorway, she sat up quickly and demanded in an urgent whisper that the girl come inside and close the door behind her. Barbara looked haggard today and there were dark circles around her eyes. Her movements were quick and jerky, like those of a caged animal. Diana was suddenly apprehensive.

"Barbara, what is going on?" she asked. "What has happened? You're scaring me."

Barbara didn't answer immediately. Instead, she opened the drawer in the bedside table, pulled out the vodka bottle and shoved it into Diana's hands.

"Keep your voice down!", she whispered. "And take the money. Hurry!"

Diana looked at her and at the vodka bottle that contained all of Barbara's savings. She was confused. Barbara continued addressing the girl, speaking quickly but giving as precise instructions as she could.

"We are going today", she said. "An hour from now, there's a bus for Las Vegas leaving from the bus stop in the town square. From there, we can change to another bus that will take us across the state border to California, and to LA if that's what you want. You have to go to the square alone. It's safer that way, there's less chance of anyone noticing us. I will join you there. But if for some reason I don't show up by the time the bus is about to leave, you have to go without me. Promise me that!"

"Why?" Diana asked uneasily. "I thought you had made up your mind to go?"

"I want to", Barbara said, sadly. "And I will try. But I may not be able to. It is possible that Luigi has other plans for me."

"I don't want to leave you behind with that scum!" Diana objected. "I don't care about his stupid plans!"

"Shhh!" Barbara hissed. "Listen to me, honey. You are a mother now. Your first loyalty is to that beautiful little baby inside you. You need to do this for him. Get on that bus. Get out of town, as far away as you can. Then find a shelter, or a hospital. Ask for help, wherever you can find it. Make sure when the time comes, that you are in a safe place. Okay?"

Diana shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm scared", she said. "I don't understand why you're talking like this, like you won't be there. What's Luigi going to do to you?"

Barbara smiled.

"Nothing… nothing", she said. "Don't worry, I'll be all right. I just want you to be prepared for every eventuality. Listen, I am going to do everything in my power to be on that bus with you. But if I… if I don't… I need you to be brave. You won't be alone. I'll be with you, even though I'm…"

Diana paled. It had suddenly dawned on her what Barbara meant by her cryptic words.

"You're afraid he might kill you", she said.

Barbara merely nodded, closing her eyes. Then, taking a deep breath, she spoke:

"So you see why we have to go now, and why we have to be really careful. There's not much time. You'd better go to your own room now, before he comes back."

Diana rose and moved towards the door. But just as she was about to reach for the doorknob, it turned form the outside. A second later, Luigi's large figure was standing in the doorway. His eyes scrutinized the girl and almost immediately discovered the vodka bottle she was clasping in her hands.

"What is going on?" he asked suspiciously. "What is that you're holding? Since when have you started drinking vodka in the morning, kid?"

Diana took a few steps backwards, while Barbara pleaded with the man to calm down. But Luigi snatched the bottle away, and looked at it more closely. He shook it and laughed.

"What have you two been up to?" he asked. "Saving money for college?"

Neither Barbara nor Diana knew what to answer.

"Barbie, this is your doing, isn't it?" he continued. "You've been hiding money from me. Why?"

"I just wanted to buy some baby things for the girl", Barbara tried feebly.

"Baby things?" Luigi said, laughing again. "This isn't some kind of kindergarten. There will be no baby here."

"There already is", Barbara said significantly, pointing towards Diana.

"Well, then we'll have to get rid of it!" Luigi retorted. "So I guess you won't be needing this…"

He looked at the bottle again, starting to pry out its content, when something on it caught his attention. There was something written in pencil on the label. Dates, times, bus numbers and names of stops in different cities. Luigi immediately recognized Barbara's handwriting, and looked at her furiously.

"You want to buy 'baby things'?" he virtually screamed. "Then why don't you tell me what these are?"

Barbara didn't answer, but she looked very frightened now.

"You were going to leave me, weren't you? You conniving little… how long have you been planning this? How long?"

He took the bottle and threw it forcefully against the wall. The glass shattered and coins and dollar bills spread across the floor. Luigi looked at the money with contempt.

"You want it?" he said sarcastically. "Then pick it up!"

Barbara didn't move. Luigi then turned to Diana.

"What about you, kid?" he taunted. "Go on, take the money, isn't that what you were going to do anyway?"

Diana was paralyzed with fear. She just looked at Luigi, terrified.

"I said, take it!" Luigi shouted, giving Diana a push that made her fall to the floor.

The girl screamed out in pain, and Barbara was by her side immediately. She looked at Luigi reproachfully. Luigi gave both of them a cold look and picked up the money himself, putting it in the pocket of his nightgown.

"You are nothing but a common thief", he said icily to Barbara. "I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I even defended you to the Boss. Well, no more. He was right about you all along. You have betrayed my trust, you and that little brat, and you'll have to pay the price. You'll have to pay… dearly. I'm really disappointed in you, Barbara. I think we could have had something good, you and me."

Barbara looked at Luigi. She tried desperately to think of a way to calm him down, but her mind was blank. It seemed hopeless.

"What are you going to do?" she asked faintly.

"Shut up!" Luigi yelled. "I need to think this through. This is a fine mess you've got us in!"

He stormed out of the room, taking the key with him as he left, and using it to lock the door from the outside. Diana and Barbara were left alone in the bedroom, still sitting on the floor.

"Why did he leave?" Diana asked. "I thought he would…"

"I know", Barbara said, putting an arm around the girl's shoulders. "I thought so, too. But maybe it's a good sign that he didn't. He isn't a monster, after all. Maybe he does have a conscience."

But Barbara didn't sound too convinced. Diana was silent for a while. She had a vague feeling that ever since Luigi had pushed her to the floor, something was not quite right inside her. There was a kind of dull ache in her back and lower abdomen, and it seemed like… yes, there was something wet under her. She looked at the floor. It was red with blood.

"Barbara!" she gasped. "The baby!"

Barbara stared at the girl, and then at the pool of blood on the floor. She rose quickly to the door, but found that it was locked and much too solid to force open. Knocking on the door and calling out to someone, anyone, who might hear, she found it was all to no avail. The corridor outside was empty. She returned to the girl and knelt by her side.

"How are you feeling, honey?" she asked. "Are you in pain?"

"A little", Diana said, but just then she was surprised by a sudden cramp that made her scream out. At the same time, she felt that there was even more of some warm liquid running onto the floor.

"I think I've… I think I've wet myself", Diana panted.

Barbara took a quick look, then looked back at the girl with concern in her eyes.

"I don't think so", she said. "It looks like your water just broke. You're in labor."

Diana started sobbing.

"I don't want to do this!" she wept. "It's not even time yet, it can't be, it's too soon! And all that blood, did you see the blood? Is that normal? What if I hurt the baby when I fell?"

"It's gonna be all right, it's gonna be all right", Barbara said softly, again and again, like a mantra. But she didn't know how that could possible be true. The girl was in labor, and she was bleeding a lot. Barbara knew nothing about delivering a baby, but there was no way they could get to a hospital now, or contact a medical professional, when Luigi had them both locked up in here. God, she needed a drink right now! Then maybe she would calm down a bit, enough to think of something.

Diana screamed again as another cramp began, stronger than the first. She grabbed hold of Barbara's arm and buried her fingers deeply into it. Barbara was immediately and brutally called back to reality. How could she even think about having a drink at a moment like this? If the baby would be born right here, in this room, she would be the only one who could help, and she would have to be sober in order to do that.

"It's okay, breathe", she said to Diana. "Deep breaths, okay? You can do this."

While the girl was doing her best to control her breathing, Barbara looked around the room. There were some clean towels on a chair, they might come in handy later. What else was there? Luckily, this was the only bedroom that had an adjoining bathroom, so they did have water, and, if she remembered correctly, there was a pair of scissors in there too, if she had to cut the umbilical cord. But didn't she have to boil them? She had a vague idea that everything needed to be sterile.

Another contraction began. Diana was sweating and staring at Barbara with terror in her eyes. The pain distorted the poor gir's face nearly beyond recognition, and the sun was shining mercilessly through the window, making the room almost unbearably hot. Barbara rose to get some water from the bathroom, and then used a wet towel to wipe Diana's forehead. Diana followed her every move with feverish anxiety.

"Barbara, don't leave me!" she sobbed.

"I'm not going anywhere", Barbara said. "I'm right here. I'm right here."

Barbara looked at Diana. The contractions were getting more frequent, and the pain was taking its toll on the girl. However, she noticed something else that was more alarming. Diana was still bleeding, and her lips were starting to get pale. This couldn't be right, they needed to get a doctor! Barbara tried once more to call out to anyone who might be in the corridor, but still got no reply. She then went to the window to see if it would open - maybe she could catch the attention of someone on the street below. But it was stuck, and the glass panes seemed solid enough. They wouldn't break easily, and they wouldn't let much sound carry through. They were really isolated in here, at Luigi's mercy, and he might well come back at any moment to kill them.

"What are you doing?" Diana cried anxiously. "Where are you?"

Running back to be by the Diana's side, Barbara saw that the girl was now starting to panic. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and her eyes were wide with terror. Stroking her hair, which was now soaked with sweat, Barbara spoke to her in a voice that she struggled to keep calm and soothing:

"Try to relax, Diana. Keep breathing. I'm here. It's going to be all right."

Diana had no idea how long she had been lying on the floor, how long these painful contractions had been going on, how many times she had cried out for Barbara, or how many times the woman had wiped the sweat from her forehead or offered her some water to drink. It felt like it had been many hours, but that nothing had happened. Only the square of sunlight that shone in through the window had moved slowly across the room. Sometimes, she could hear Barbara talking to her, but was more aware of the voice than of the actual words.

"Diana? Can you hear me, honey?"

When Barbara repeated the question several times, Diana finally made a conscious effort to understand it. She finally nodded and looked up to see Barbara bending over her. Finding that she had the girl's attention at last, Barbara spoke:

"Listen, I'm going to try and check if I can see the baby, okay?"

Diana gave a faint sound of approval and closed her eyes. She was getting tired. Barbara addressed her again.

"I think I see the head!" she exclaimed. "Hang on…"

Barbara looked around. She didn't want to touch anything if she wasn't sure her hands were clean. After all, she didn't want to cause an infection of some kind, especially since it was such a hot day and all kinds of germs must be thriving. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands. Was that enough? Probably not. She needed to disinfect her hands, and the scissors as well. Barbara thought for a minute, then felt the pocket of the old dressing gown she was wearing. Sure enough, the bottle of vodka she usually kept there "just in case" was still there, and it was half full.

Barbara opened it. For a few seconds, she had an urge to take a sip. She hadn't had a drop of alcohol since last night, and it must already be afternoon by now. Just one sip couldn't hurt…

"Barbara, no!" she told herself. "Not now. For God's sake, pull yourself together!"

Instead, she poured the vodka onto some toilet paper and used it to wipe clean her hands and the scissors. Then she returned to Diana to check on the girl.

"Yes", Barbara confirmed. "It is the head. I think when the next one comes, you can push."

Diana moaned.

"I can't push", she said. "I want to sleep. I want this to go away. Can't you just cut me open and lift him out?"

"You can do this, baby", Barbara said firmly. "It will be all right. I'm here. Dig your fingernails into my arm again if you need to."

When the next contraction came, Diana tried to push as hard as she could. But nothing happened. And she wasn't sure if she really had the strength in her to push harder.

"It's not working", she said. "Just cut him out. Shouldn't he be here by now? Oww…"

There was another contraction, and then another, and a third. Barbara urged Diana to push just a little bit harder, and finally, the baby seemed to be moving. As Diana screamed in pain, the whole head became visible and moments later, Barbara could help pull out the rest of the tiny body, all covered in blood. It was a little baby boy. Barbara held him gently in her arms, looking at him with tears in her eyes. He was so tiny. And he was quiet.

"Is he not crying?" Diana said weakly.

Barbara didn't answer. Her eyes rested attentively on the little person. So beautiful, so perfect. So still. Too still. Barbara glanced at Diana, who was moving her head restlessly.

"Where is he? I can't hear him crying", she repeated. "Barbara, say something, please…"

Barbara tried to fight back the despair that was slowly rising inside her. The baby wasn't crying. He wasn't. He wasn't. If only there was someone here who could help, who would know what to do. If only they had made it to a hospital… Barbara closed her eyes and started sobbing, cradling the little boy. How would she find the words to tell Diana…?

Just then, there was a sound. A faint little sound, like something a kitten would make. The boy stirred in Barbara's arms and opened his eyes. Then, he filled his lungs with air for the first time and started crying.

Both Diana and Barbara began laughing, tears of relief streaming down their faces. Barbara wrapped the baby in a towel, cut the umbilical cord and placed the boy in Diana's arms. Diana looked at him in amazement.

"I can't believe he's here", she whispered.

The boy yawned. Diana smiled at him.

"He looks just like you", Barbara observed. "The spitting image of his mama."

"Yes, he is", Diana agreed. "My little Noah. I always knew it was a Noah in there."

"Noah", Barbara said, putting her little finger into the baby's tiny hand and letting him grasp it with his strong reflexes. "Nice to finally meet you."

"He likes you", Diana said. "He is a good judge of character."

Barbara chuckled.

"I mean it", Diana insisted. "If it hadn't been for you…"

Suddenly, she felt as though the room had started spinning, and there was like a dark curtain around the edge of her visual field. She heard Barbara's voice, warped and distant, and realized she no longer had the strength to hold the baby.

"Take him…" she said, hardly able to articulate the words.

Barbara quickly picked up the baby, while trying to maintain contact with Diana. But the girl seemed not to hear her anymore. She was very pale and the pool of blood around her had grown. Again, Barbara went to the locked door, banged on it repeatedly and cried out for help. For the first time, there was a reply.

"Barbie?" Pearl's voice said quietly.

"Pearl, thank God!" Barbara exclaimed. "Luigi has locked me in here with Diana… I mean Laura. But Diana's her real name. She had the baby. You have to get us out of here, or call for a doctor, right now! Diana's lost a lot of blood and she's passed out."

"Oh, my God!" Pearl said. "I… I wish there was something I could do…"

"There is, Pearl, please!" Barbara said. "Just get a doctor. Now. Please, just…"

"I'm sorry, Barbie", Pearl said nervously, "I can't. Luigi has forbidden us to talk to you or even go upstairs today. I have never seen him this angry before. I'm afraid what he might do…"

"Well, get him up here, then!" Barbara pleaded. "I have to try to reason with him."

"Barbie, I'm not sure that's a good idea. He's really upset with you, and it might be a bad idea to push him right now…"

"I know! And I already know what he plans to do with me, and I probably can't change his mind about that anyway, but these are children we are talking about. Two children's lives are at stake, Pearl!"

"I'll… I'll see what I can do."

Barbara heard Pearl walk down the corridor and continue downstairs. She returned to the unconscious girl, shaking her gently by the shoulders and speaking her name with increasing urgency. Finally, Diana woke up.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're still in my room, honey", Barbara said, trying to sound calm. "The baby is here too. He's fine. See?"

Diana turned her head to look at the infant. He had fallen asleep in Barbara's arms.

"You want to hold him again?" Barbara asked.

"Not now", Diana said feebly, caressing his little bald head with her fingers. I'm feeling a little weak, I'm afraid I might drop him. No, you hold him. I think I'll go back to sleep."

"No, try to stay awake!" Barbara urged, afraid that the girl would slip into unconsciousness again. "Listen to me, stay with me, okay?"

"Are you worried about me?" Diana asked, looking up. "Is it bad?"

"I think we should try to get you to a doctor", Barbara said evasively. "You have lost a lot of blood, and we should also get the baby checked out just to make sure everything is okay. I'm going to talk to Luigi, maybe he's calmed down now."

Barbara looked out of the window. The sun had begun to set and the nightclub would be opening about now. She wondered what excuse Luigi would use to explain her absence to the band - they were performing tonight. If only he'd come up here to talk to her… had Pearl even dared give him the message?

The sound of footsteps resounded outside in the corridor, a man's heavy footsteps.

"Luigi!" Barbara called out. "Please, open the door! We need a doctor in here."

The footsteps stopped outside the door, but there was no reply.

"Luigi, please, I know you're out there!" Barbara pleaded. "I know you are angry with me, but can't you see this has nothing to do with her? If you won't let us out, could you at least call for a doctor? Remember you did before, when I was injured…"

"He left town", Luigi said monotonously. "Permanently. Barbie, I wish it didn't have to come to this. I loved you, you know. I did."

"And part of you still does, or you would have killed me already", Barbara tried to reason. "Luigi, I know you don't want to do this. And there's still a chance to turn this whole situation around. Don't cross that threshold."

Barbara crept up to the door and leant against it, speaking more softly to the man. She could hear him sitting down of the floor in the corridor, leaning his back heavily against the outside of the door. He was just as tired as she was, as they all were.

"You crossed that threshold, Barbie", he said. "When you lied to me. When you betrayed me and planned to leave me."

"We have both told lies", she said calmly. "I admit mine. It's true, I planned to leave. Because of the children. Because I wanted to keep them safe. Because I didn't want something like this to happen. If that is a betrayal to you, so be it. But I tried to do the right thing. What were your reasons?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, woman", Luigi said dismissively.

"Then answer this one question for me", Barbara said. "Who am I?"

There was no answer from behind the door. Barbara continued bravely:

"I was lost and afraid. I had no idea who I was or where I came from. You took me in. You told me about my past. You gave me a home, a history. But none of what you told me was true, was it? Is Barbara even my real name?"

Still no answer.

"Luigi, I am not trying to upset you or accuse you. But I think after all this time I deserve to know the truth, and then maybe we can both move on, and forget about all this craziness. It's all I ask. You don't have to worry about me exposing any of your secrets, or going to the police. I won't, if you just let us go. Please, just let us go!"

"Barbie, you know I can't do that", Luigi said, sadly. "It has to end here. You, the girl, the baby. Do you think this is easy for me? Don't you think I've been going through hell today, thinking about what has to be done, trying to put it off? Don't you think I have a heart, too?"

"Then at least spare them!" Barbara pleaded, looking anxiously at Diana who seemed to have passed out again. "They are children, Luigi. You wouldn't… you wouldn't kill an innocent child."

"I have to go back to the club", Luigi said, as if he hadn't heard her. "I have important business downstairs that can't wait. We'll finish this later. I'm sorry, Barbie. I wish… I wish I could make this easier on you. I don't want you to suffer. Have a drink, why don't you? It'll help pass the time."

Barbara could hear Luigi rising again, and then there was the fading sound of him walking away along the corridor. Their last hope was gone. He was relentless, and sometime during the evening, as soon as he could get away from his "business", he would be back and that would be the end of all of them. She returned to Diana's side to find her moaning weakly. The girl was still bleeding, and she seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. Barbara looked from the girl's pale face to the sleeping face of the little boy in her arms, and she cried bitterly.

"Barbara, don't cry", Diana whispered, waking up. "I'm feeling better now."

Barbara looked at the girl and tried to smile.

"Will you promise me something?" Diana continued. "Will you look after Noah for me until I get well? I don't… I don't want him to ever end up in foster care like I did. Never."

Barbara couldn't answer, but nodded her head, trying to suppress a sob.

"You are the closest thing to a mother I ever had", the girl said. "Noah is lucky to have you."

The baby, no doubt reacting to Barbara's agitation, woke up and started crying, too.

"Shh, baby", Diana whispered, and turned to Barbara, smiled and said: "You'll have to sing to him. He liked the song you sang last night. He was kicking like crazy and it calmed him down right away."

Barbara nodded and started humming:

_Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high  
There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby…_

She cradled the boy in her arms as she sang, gently rocking him back and forth. He stopped crying almost immediately. Diana, hearing this, closed her eyes with a smile on her white lips. Barbara glanced at the girl. Had she passed out again? She carefully put the baby down on the bed, and bent over Diana. There was something different about her appearance, something unnatural. Barbara looked more closely. Diana's chest wasn't moving. With trembling hands, Barbara tried to find a pulse, a heartbeat. Nothing. She called out the girl's name time and again, but there was no reaction.

Diana had died.

At first, Barbara couldn't take it in. She knelt by the girl's body, frozen, her mind completely blank. The last rays of the setting sun bathed the room in a golden light, and a fly was buzzing somewhere by the window. The blood on the floor had started to dry. Barbara suddenly realized the baby needed a bath, she hadn't had time to wash the blood off his body. She picked him up in her trembling arms and stumbled to the bathroom. The poor baby. Was this all she could do for him? How could she protect him from Luigi, when she hadn't been able to protect his mother?

She wrapped the clean Noah in a new towel, and sat down on the floor again by Diana's body. All she could do now was wait for the inevitable. And then, an acute feeling of loss hit her. Diana was gone. She had just been a child, she had counted on Barbara for support, and now she was dead. Why? It should have been the other way around! Diana should have been on her way to California now, and Barbara should have been the sole target of Luigi's fury.

Soon, she heard the familiar sound of footsteps again. Her heart started racing. It was time. But instead of the sound of Luigi's key in the door, she heard a voice call out her name. To her surprise, she realized it was the bass player in the band.

"I'm in here!" she said hurriedly.

Immediately, she heard the sound of a key in the lock. The door opened and the bass player was standing there, staring at her.

"Barbie, what has happened to you?" he said.

"It's not me", Barbara answered, realizing that her dressing gown was completely covered in Diana's blood. "It's Diana. She had the baby, and she… she died. Luigi wouldn't let us out. I think he's going to kill us, too!"

"I know", the bass player said matter-of-factly. "Pearl told me. And I can't say I was completely surprised - I had a funny feeling yesterday that something was up when you wouldn't stop singing, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was wrong. Anyway, it seems most everyone working here knows what's going on tonight, but pretend not to. They're all cowards! They are afraid of Luigi, so they turn a blind eye to save their own skin. Well, we won't stand for it!

"We?"

"The band, of course. We don't care about Luigi, he has no hold on us. This place is nothing, it's just a gig. We can always find a new seedy nightclub to play in. But you, you're a different matter. We starving musicians need to look after each other. You're one of us, Barbie. And you're a damn good singer. You always were too good for this joint, anyway. What do you say we get out of here?"

Barbara just stood in the doorway. She couldn't take in what the bass player was saying.

"But how…" she objected. "The key… and Luigi is down there."

"Well, as it happens our drummer is not only that, but also an excellent pickpocket. And the pianist is down there in some adjoining room arguing with Luigi as we speak, demanding we all get a raise. Of course the idiot will never go along with that, but I think our man can keep the conversation going for as long as we need. We're all going to quit anyway, after tonight. There is no way we are staying on here, not now. Enough is enough."

Barbara listened to him in disbelief. She had never had any idea the bass player, or any of the band members, even cared about what happened to her. They had always seemed to enjoy playing with her, of course, and she had liked working with them. But the bass player had on more than one occasion given her a hard time when she didn't know the music (usually if she had been drinking a bit too much), or reproached her if she was ever late or had to cancel. He had never been one to show any appreciation whatsoever. Until now.

"Hurry, Barbie, we don't have much time!" he said sharply.

Looking around, Barbara found some clothes on a chair. Afraid that it would attract too much attention, she quickly changed out of the dirty dressing gown and into a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and put on comfortable shoes. Then she picked up the baby and got ready to leave. As she was standing on the doorstep, she turned around one last time and looked at Diana's body, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry, honey", she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I failed you. I couldn't save you. But at least Noah will be safe. Nobody is ever going to hurt him. I will defend him with my life. I will protect him. I promise, baby girl."

Then she turned around and went out into the corridor. The bass player locked the door from the outside behind them, to delay the discovery of their escape. They ran down the stairs and entered the nightclub. Luigi was nowhere to be seen, but a few heads turned as the bass player walked into the room, followed by Barbara who was holding the baby in her arms. But just as the waitresses and the bartender had earlier pretended not to know what Luigi had planned, now they pretended not to see Barbara walk out through the front door. In a little while, when Luigi had finished his discussion with the pianist and ended up firing the entire band, no doubt, he would discover that she was gone. And nobody in the entire club would have the faintest idea what had happened.

Out in the street, it had started to get dark. The bass player nodded one last time to Barbara.

"You're on your own now", he said. "Good luck. It's been a pleasure working with you. We will never forget you."

Barbara smiled.

"And I'll never forget this. I don't know how to thank you. You took a great risk here tonight."

"Some risks are worth taking", the bass player replied. "You take care of yourself, will you? Get out of here, get on the wagon, find yourself a job. You're much too talented to waste away in a place like this. And you don't even know it yourself. You are a remarkable person, Barbie."

"Actually, I don't think that's really my name."

"Then what is?" the bass player asked.

"I don't know", Barbara said as she started walking down the street, away from the nightclub, for the last time. "But I'm going to find out."


	16. Chapter XVI: A Night on the Run

**Chapter XVI: A Night on the Run**

Alexandria was getting tired. She had been walking on the beach all day, spending an hour or so in one place, then moving on, for fear that someone would find her. She had already eaten all the food she had packed, and spent most of the money she had brought on ice cream and bottled water, as it had been the hottest day of the summer so far. Now, as darkness was falling, she started to doubt how wise it had been for her to run away from home without actually having any specific place to run _to_. It was one thing to be on the run during the day, that was almost an adventure, but at night… well, that was a different thing altogether. Where would she sleep? What if she met some bad guys and got kidnapped?

Sitting down in the sand, she started weighing her options. She could always call her father and have him come and pick her up. But that would be so embarrassing. Besides, she was still angry with him and wasn't ready to talk to him quite yet. Was there anyone else she could call without them contacting her father immediately? Hardly. So there was really only one thing left to do - she had to find a shelter for the night.

Alexandria looked around to see if there was somewhere safe she could sleep without risking being found out. On this part of the beach, she could see a lot of houses, all of them filled with people, of course. It was risky, but on the other hand, if something bad happened and she was in trouble, someone would surely hear her screaming. She decided to see if there was an open shed or something like that where she could hide.

Walking from one house to the other in the dark, she finally found one which had a porch with some planks missing, so that it was possible to crawl into the empty space underneath it. She tried to look into the hole in the porch, to make sure there weren't any animals living there. Not finding any, she crawled in. There was plenty of room, the sand on the ground was soft, and the warm nights would make sure she was more comfortable here than in her own bedroom. She lay down flat on her stomach and looked out through the hole. She could see the sea from where she was lying, and the waves were crashing onto the shore. A few stars had become visible on the deep blue sky. It was all quite beautiful, she thought. If only she hadn't felt so alone. She took up her phone and looked at it. It was turned off, because she didn't want anyone to track her down that way. Resisting the temptation to turn it on and call a friend, she instead reached into her backpack for her doll. It was not human company, but it made her feel a little less lonely.

"Will you keep an eye on me tonight while I sleep?" Alexandria asked the doll.

The doll smiled at her reassuringly in the darkness.

* * *

Over at Thorne's beach house, the entire family and some neighbors had gathered. Thorne had discovered that morning that Alexandria hadn't been in her room, and she hadn't answered her phone. After spending the morning calling everyone they knew and still not being able to locate her, Thorne had finally alerted the police. They had, however, been reluctant to put a lot of resources into the search when they understood that Alexandria had disappeared following an argument with her father. Missing teenagers were, after all, quite a common occurrence and they usually returned on their own once they had calmed down.

But everyone in the family had offered to come over and help Thorne look. Together, they had searched the area near the house over and over again during the day. It seemed that the girl had really left on purpose as she had brought some of her personal belongings. The only thing that reassured Thorne slightly was the fact that Alexandria's swimsuit was still in her room. It meant, at least, that it was not likely that she had gone swimming and been swept away by the waves. She was probably just hiding somewhere because she was angry with him. And she had every right to be, Thorne thought. He hadn't handled the conversation with her yesterday very well.

"It's dark outside", Eric observed. "She'll probably get scared and call you any time now."

"I hope so, Dad", Thorne said. "I really hope so."

"What was that argument you were having, anyway?" Ridge asked.

"It doesn't really matter now", Thorne snapped. "I just want her home!"

"Of course you do", Taylor said compassionately. "And we will find her."

"Taylor is right", Brooke agreed. "We may have our differences, but in the end we are all a family and we have to come together at a time like this."

Karen Spencer walked up to Thorne.

"Look," she said, "Dani and I are heading home, but we'll keep an eye out for her, okay? And if you need anything, just give us a call. We'll be practically next door, remember?"

Thorne nodded. Other people were starting to leave as well. Thomas and Steffy were just about to be on their way, as were Rick, Hope and Caroline.

"Thank you all for coming", he said. "I appreciate it."

A while later, the only person left with Thorne was Eric. He put a comforting arm around his son."

"Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?" he asked. "It wouldn't be a problem."

"Thanks", Thorne said. "Actually, I think I'm going to go out on the beach again and look some more, so it would be great if you could just be here. You know, in case… in case she comes home. If it's not any trouble."

"It's no trouble at all", Eric reassured him. "Anything I can do…"

"It's my fault", Thorne said, feeling the tears burning behind his eyelids. "I hurt her. She left because of me. I love her so much, Dad, she's my little girl, she's all I have. If anything happens to her, I don't think I could go on…"

"She'll be fine", Eric said. "And she'll be back. She knows you love her."

Thorne looked at his father doubtfully.

"Does she?" he said.

* * *

Barbara was walking down the dark street as fast as she could, afraid to stop and terrified to look back. The image of the dead girl haunted her, along with the constant questions: "Why did it have to be her? Why her and not me? What did I ever do to deserve to live while an innocent child had to die?"

It was wrong, on so many levels. Barbara was worn out, used, tired, alone. Diana had been young, vital, with her whole life ahead of her, and she had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy. There could be no meaning, no purpose. It was just a cruel trick of fate.

She reached the town square but kept walking. There would be no bus to Las Vegas now, and besides, she didn't have any money. Nothing at all. So how would she manage to get out of town before Luigi found her? He might be right behind her already.

Slowly, Barbara made her way out of town and onto the highway. It was not such a big town and she could already see the gas station along the way, the final refuge before miles and miles of wasteland. Maybe, if she was lucky, a car might stop there and she could ask for a ride. It was dangerous, but it was all she could do right now. So she stood there, waiting.

The first car that stopped was driven by a middle-aged man with a shaved head and a lot of tattoos. Barbara hesitated. He looked like a convict. She decided to wait until another care came around. The second car that pulled over at the gas station was moving in the wrong direction, into town instead of away from it.

Finally, she saw a car with a trailer stopping for gas. An old woman with dyed blonde hair, heavy makeup and a lot of cheap jewelry stepped out from the driver's seat. She looked friendly, so Barbara walked up to her.

"Excuse me, ma'am…", she began.

"Oh, my!" the old woman exclaimed. "You gave me quite a start, lady, creeping up on me like that in the dark. How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you could possibly give me a ride out of town", Barbara said. "I don't have any money, but I…"

The woman scrutinized her and the baby curiously.

"You're on the run from your man, right?" she concluded. "And you've taken the kid with you? Good for you! You're better off, they're all alike, trust me!"

Barbara stared at the old woman.

"What was wrong with him?" the woman continued. "Was he cruel to you? Did he beat you up?"

"Yes", Barbara said truthfully. "You are right. And I had to leave in a hurry, because he'd never let me…"

"Say no more, hop in the car!" the woman said. "I'm Shirley, by the way."

"Barbara", Barbara said. "And this is Noah."

Shirley looked at the infant.

"You got all you need for the baby?" she asked. "I didn't see a bag."

"I didn't have time to get one", Barbara said. "I don't have any diapers, or baby formula…"

"You don't breastfeed?"

"No, he…" Barbara began. "No."

Now was not the time to explain the baby wasn't her son, she thought.

"Okay, no worries", Shirley said cheerfully. "I'll see what I can find in the store."

Shirley entered the store in the gas station, and returned after a while carrying a couple of paper bags.

"Found diapers and formula, and bottles and stuff", she said triumphantly. "Unfortunately, they didn't have a child car seat, but if you just hold him I'll try to drive as carefully as I can for now. Just get in the car and we'll take it from there."

Barbara did so, and as they pulled out from the gas station, she started talking to Shirley.

"I can't believe what you just did", she said. "Here I am, a complete stranger, asking for your help, and you not only offer to take me with you, you buy all these things…"

"Honey, you are no stranger", Shirley replied. "I know you. That woman with the small child, alone, poor, running from an abusive husband - that was me many years ago. And I wish someone had offered to help me back then."

"So you…"

"Absolutely! And let me tell you, the day I decided to leave was the day my life started. I have never regretted it, not once! And neither will you."

"I didn't really have a choice", Barbara said, thoughtfully. "I don't think I would have survived if I had stayed an hour longer."

"That's exactly how I felt!" Shirley exclaimed with passion. "And I think you are right about that. Sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself. Reclaim your life, sister!"

Barbara looked at the long straight road that was stretched out in front of them.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"How does Los Angeles sound to you?" Shirley said.

"Fine", Barbara answered, remembering with a sudden feeling of sorrow that that's where Diana had wanted to go.

"Good", Shirley continued. "I've got a sister there. She's expecting me tomorrow. It's a bit of a drive, but I'd rather start late because of the heat. The air conditioning in this old wreck of a car is not what it should be, I can tell you!"

"That's all right", Barbara said. "So, are you driving all night?"

"No way, I don't want to be falling asleep at the wheel. I'm gonna drive a few more hours, and then we'll have a bit of a rest before continuing. You're not tired already, are you? I mean, you can't sleep and hold the baby at the same time."

"I'm beyond tired", Barbara said. "But I'll manage. I just want to get as far away as possible, as fast as possible."

"I remember that feeling", Shirley mumbled. "It's your sanity finally kicking in."

They were driving along the highway. Barbara looked at the darkness outside, and at little Noah who was sleeping in her arms. The car hit a tiny bump in the road, and the sudden movement woke him up. He started crying. To comfort him, Barbara hummed softly to him, a sweet lullaby she made up as she went along. The baby soon went back to sleep.

"You have a nice voice", Shirley commented. "You should sing in public."

"I do, I mean I did", Barbara said. "I used to perform in a nightclub."

"Really?" Shirley said, suddenly interested. "Can you sing something to me?"

Barbara smiled.

"I just got the baby to sleep."

"Oh, he won't mind", the old woman said eagerly. "Come on, just one song!"

Barbara thought for a while. The only thing that came into her head was an old song she had never sung with the band at Luigi's. She didn't know from where she knew it, or even if she would remember all the lyrics once she started singing. Nevertheless, she began…

_When I fall in love it will be forever  
Or I'll never fall in love  
In a restless world like this is  
Love is ended before it's begun  
And too many moonlight kisses  
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun_

_When I give my heart it will be completely  
Or I'll never give my heart  
And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too  
Is when I fall in love with you_

Barbara finished the song, confused and exhilarated. Something about that melody, those words, stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting feelings inside her. What was it with that song? What is it with certain pieces of music that trigger such strong emotions inside you? Shirley seemed to have noticed it too, because she had pulled over to the side of the road and was staring at Barbara.

"That was amazing, lady!" Shirley said. "Hey, did you ever record a CD?"

Barbara shook her head.

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"Well, if you haven't, you should!" Shirley exclaimed. "But the reason I asked is that I think I have that song on an old CD somewhere, with a singer who sounds just like you. How's that for a coincidence?"

"Well…" Barbara began, but was interrupted by an angry cry from the baby. Noah had woken up and was demanding her attention.

"I think he's hungry, and he probably needs a diaper change, too", Barbara said. "Is it safe to stop here for a while?"

"Sure", Shirley said. "You can heat the bottle inside the trailer. I think we could use a rest anyway before going on."

Shirley and Barbara got out of the car. While Barbara changed Noah's diaper and prepared his baby formula, Shirley rummaged around in the trailer for something.

"Are you hungry?" the old woman asked after a while. "I think I have some biscuits left."

"No, it's okay, thanks", Barbara shouted from outside.

The night air was cool and she had sat down on a blanket on the ground, cradling the baby. She didn't remember if she had had anything to eat or drink today, but she was too tired, and too anxious, to feel any hunger or thirst right now. Instead, she laid the baby down on the blanket and lay down beside him, looking at the clear night sky. In the darkness that surrounded them, all the stars seemed so bright and close. It was almost as if they kept moving closer and closer as she watched them. Barbara looked at all the constellations and tried to remember their names, but right now she couldn't think straight. She hadn't slept the night before, and didn't really think she would manage to sleep now either, but just a short rest couldn't hurt…

As Barbara lay there looking at the stars, she heard a strange sound. At first it was just a faint rustle in the sand, and she wondered it she had imagined it. But it came again, and again. Then she felt something crawling on her arm, even though she couldn't see what it was in the darkness. Yes, there was definitely something there, something bigger than an insect. A scorpion? Barbara felt her heart pounding - the baby! Now whatever it was had almost reached her chest, it was getting underneath her T-shirt, and she could feel another one, just like the first, crawling along her leg. She was terrified to move but knew she had to do something to get those creatures off of her. Barbara tried to call out for Shirley, but found that she couldn't speak. With rising panic, she felt what she was now quite sure were scorpions crawling on her body, under her clothes, and she was sure they were all over Noah, too. Where was Shirley? Why was it so dark? Where were the stars - they were here a moment ago?

"Hey, lady, I found the CD I was telling you about, inside the trailer!" Shirley said cheerfully. "Turns out this singer looks a bit like you, too! Isn't that funny?"

Barbara sat up with a start, her forehead wet with sweat. Shirley was standing right next to her, and the stars were back in the sky. Noah was sleeping peacefully on the blanket. The scorpions were nowhere to be found.

"I… was I sleeping?" Barbara asked, confused and out of breath.

"Oh, maybe so, I didn't know", Shirley said apologetically. "I didn't mean to wake you, it was nothing important…"

"No, I'm glad you did", Barbara said, shuddering. "I was having a bad dream."

Or had it really been just a dream? Barbara found she was trembling violently, and she could still almost feel the scorpions crawling all over her. But when she tried to look, there was nothing there. So why was she frightened?

Shirley went into the trailer to get a little sleep before driving on, but Barbara rose and walked restlessly back and forth along the deserted highway, carrying Noah in her arms. She didn't want to remain on the ground where there might be venomous animals, and she didn't want to go back to sleep. All she wanted was for this night to end, so she could see daylight again, so she could find herself far away from Luigi and the nightclub. So she could see clearly what was real. More to comfort herself than the baby, she started humming. The same lullaby, over and over again, while she waited for Shirley to wake up and keep driving. The surrounding darkness, which had seemed so peaceful a while ago, felt menacing to her now. She had never been afraid of the dark before. And even now, her reason told her that as long as it was dark, she was safe from discovery. But something else had awoken inside her, something terrifying, something she couldn't run away from. All her senses were on the alert, waiting for some unknown threat.

Again, the image of Diana's dead body came into Barbara's mind. It was horrible, too horrible to even bear thinking of. But what if it was only the beginning?

* * *

Sheila Carter was sitting on the floor in her new apartment, piles of old newspapers spread out around her. She had spent several days asking around in the neighborhood for papers from several months ago, claiming to look for an obituary of an old friend. Many people had taken the opportunity to get rid of the papers they had inadvertently hoarded, and with any luck, the right issue would be there somewhere. Sheila had an idea of the approximate date when the article about the missing Diana Carter had been published, but she didn't know for sure, so just to be on the safe side, she browsed through all the papers printed in that time span.

It was a long and tedious project. She had been at it for hours and it was already late at night, but Sheila had a lot of work left, and her mind was made up - she wouldn't quit until she had found the article, or gone through all the papers thoroughly to make sure it was not there.

Finally, she saw it. A picture on the front page, no less, and the caption "Teenage girl missing". Before she had even opened the newspaper and found the article, she knew that this was the right one. That photo left no room for doubt. The girl in the picture looked too much like her - the same dark deep-set eyes and expressive eyebrows, the same straight dark brown hair, the same determined jawline, the same strength, independence and secretive reserve written on her face. It must be her. Diana, her daughter!

Opening the paper to the right page with trembling hands, she read the full article. It all fit. Diana Carter, aged thirteen (though she would be fourteen now), had disappeared without a trace from her foster parents' home in a small Nevada town. There was an interview with her foster father, a man called Wayne Q Barry. Good name. There wouldn't be too many by that name in the same region, Sheila thought.

Picking up a phone book, she flipped through the pages. Wayne Q Barry. Should be easy enough to find. There he was, complete with address and phone number. Sheila got a pencil and wrote everything down on an empty piece of paper. Tomorrow, she would pay a visit to Mr Barry. And maybe, she thought, he would show her the way to her daughter, or at least confirm that it was indeed her (if she really needed any proof after seeing that picture). He had better be cooperative. Sheila couldn't stand it when people stood in the way of something she wanted. And now, she wanted her little girl back.

More than anything, she wanted to hold her youngest daughter in her arms again.


	17. Chapter XVII: Converging Lines

**Chapter XVII: Converging Lines**

Sheila looked up at the gray apartment building. This was it. Wayne Q Barry lived here, and it was possible that her daughter did, too. She opened the front door with determination and looked around. He lived on the third floor. Now she was only a few steps away from her goal. She adjusted her glasses and put on a baseball cap. One could never be too careful.

A lady who was cleaning the stairs greeted her. Sheila decided it might be a good idea to address her in order to find out a thing or two.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for Diana Carter", she began.

The cleaning lady looked at her.

"Who?" she said.

Sheila took out the photo she had cut from the newspaper and showed it to the woman, whose brow cleared at once.

"Oh, that girl on the third floor!" she exclaimed. "No, haven't seen her for months. I read in the paper she had run away. Didn't surprise me one bit, as a matter of fact."

"Why is that?" Sheila asked.

"Well, the way they were fighting in there… I don't want to gossip or speak ill of anyone, but it really scared me sometimes, you know."

"What?" Sheila said, her voice turning hard and eager.

"The screaming and crying", the cleaning lady explained. "And sometimes I saw the child leaving for school all bruised. It was terrible. And… well, I'm not sure I should say anything…"

Sheila looked at the woman attentively. It was all the encouragement she needed.

"I saw this man leaving or coming home with the child a few times, and I always thought there was something… inappropriate… in the way he was touching her, if you know what I mean."

"The scum!" Sheila hissed under her breath, then spoke aloud: "So why didn't you call the police?"

"I don't know", the woman said, squirming. "I felt it wasn't my place. Besides, you don't really want to throw these accusations around if they are wrong."

Sheila gave the cleaning lady a final, ice cold, look and hurried up the stairs. When she reached the third floor, she immediately found the correct door and rang the doorbell. Once, twice, three times. Finally, she heard a noise from inside and the door opened slowly.

"We don't want to buy anything", the slightly overweight man in the doorway said. He was still unshaven and wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

"Oh, I'm not here to sell anything", Sheila said with a forced smile. "I just have a question about Diana Carter."

The man's facial expression changed suddenly. He looked first eager, then uncomfortable, and finally suspicious.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I have reason to believe that Diana is my niece", Sheila lied. "My sister's daughter. When I read about her in the paper, I thought she looked so much like my sister. She had a daughter who was placed in foster care when she was imprisoned. But I may be mistaken."

"You'd better come inside", Wayne Q Barry said. "I have never heard of Diana having any known living relatives. We still don't even know for sure what became of her mother. She is supposedly dead, but… well, as far as I understand it's all quite uncertain… But you say you are not sure about this possible relation between you. Why haven't you checked with the authorities?"

"You know how it is", Sheila said. "With all that bureaucracy, it takes such a long time to get any kind of answer. So when I read the paper, I thought it would be easier to go straight to you. You can help me, can't you?"

Sheila gave Mr Barry her most appealing smile. Its effect was usually not lost on men.

"It's true", Barry said, noticing that the woman standing in front of him was actually very beautiful, "I should have the information on Diana here somewhere… I know we had to give it to the police when we reported her missing. But what you said sounds about right. I do remember that her mother was in prison. Some kind of dangerous criminal, as far as I know."

Barry put on a robe several sizes too big and went into the living room. He started rummaging through the bookshelves, searching for the file on his foster child. It was not like him to be so helpful, but this aunt, or whatever she was, was really… yes, something quite out of the ordinary. Just like Diana had been. There was actually quite a resemblance.

"Found it!" he finally exclaimed triumphantly. "Take a look."

Sheila took the file without a word and read it thoroughly. There was a copy of the birth certificate. It stated clearly the place and date of birth and the name of the mother. Sheila Carter. The father was stated as unknown. Ridiculous! Diana's father was the rich and powerful businessman Massimo Marone, and she had said as much, but nobody would believe her. Anyway, this proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that Sheila's instincts had been correct. The Diana in the article really was her daughter. But she wasn't here.

"Do you…" Sheila began, "Do you have any idea where she could have gone, or why she ran away?"

Barry shook his head.

"I can't imagine", he said. "She was so happy here. And my wife and I, we loved her as if she was our own. Truly, we did. We were devastated when she went missing."

"Were you really?" Sheila asked, raising an eyebrow. "I have been told something completely different."

Barry shot her a nervous glance. He looked guilty, yes, there was no other way to describe it. Sheila knew at once she had hit a weak spot.

"Look, lady, I don't know who said that or where you are getting this, but…"

"So you never laid a hand on her?" Sheila asked sharply.

The man couldn't look her in the eyes. Instead, he turned defensive.

"I don't have to listen to this!" he snapped. "I have looked after her for years, and here you are, showing up out of the blue, telling me how to be a good parent. I don't even know if what you're saying is true. For all I know, you may not be her aunt at all."

"You are right", Sheila said slowly, taking off her glasses and the cap. "I'm not her aunt. I'm her mother. And even though you seem to have got some things wrong, one thing you said about me is true. I can be dangerous. Very dangerous, to those who hurt me or my children. So I'm going to ask you once again. What did you do to my daughter?"

Barry's eyes widened. He was startled, but decided not to show it.

"Are you threatening me?" he said. "You are going to regret it. I have very good contact with the police in this town. One phone call from me… besides, did you even serve your sentence? Maybe they're after you already, huh?"

"Maybe so", Sheila said, smiling ironically. "But you are not going to tell them. You are not going to tell anybody I was here. Understood?"

The man looked at Sheila. She looked quite menacing, and there was something in her eyes that frightened him. But then he told himself it was just in his mind. After all, what could she possibly do? She was just a woman, seemingly unarmed, and she didn't look very strong, quite the opposite. He could easily overpower her and hand her over to the police. In fact, that was exactly what he was going to do. They were probably looking for her, anyway.

Barry made a sudden movement to grab hold of Sheila. With the reflexes of a cat, she leapt backwards to escape him, but the man wouldn't give up so easily. He sprang forward again, and Sheila responded by backing even further away, out through the front door and onto the landing above the staircase where she had just arrived a while earlier. The floor was still wet after having been mopped by the cleaning lady. Following her there, Barry made a final attempt to get hold of Sheila. He finally managed to seize her arms, and there was a brief struggle while Sheila fought to free herself. Then, suddenly, something happened. For a fraction of a second, Barry stumbled on his robe and lost his balance. Since the floor was slippery, he didn't manage to regain it immediately. Sheila took the opportunity to push him away from her forcefully, and with a cry of surprise rather than fear, the man fell backwards down the stairs.

Sheila watched him as he tumbled down like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he reached the landing below and was still. His head was twisted in an unnatural angle, and it was clear even from a distance that he was dead, or at the very least, dying.

It had been an accident, Sheila told herself. Just another unfortunate accident. Or maybe it was karma - these accidents did tend to happen to people who provoked her, or tried to hurt her. And Mr Barry had done just that. No, he had done something far worse. He had hurt her child, her baby.

"Nobody does that unpunished!" Sheila said under her breath. "This was nothing but justice."

Then, taking a quick look around to make sure she had left no visible evidence of her presence, Sheila hurried down the stairs and out into the street. She still hadn't found Diana, but felt that now, at least, she was one step closer.

* * *

Alexandria finally crawled out from underneath the porch where she had spent the night. She had been awake for a few hours already, but wanted to wait until she was sure that nobody would see her. At first, she had been sure that the inhabitants of the house would go outside at any moment, but little by little, she had grown more confident that they were not at home today, as everything was silent.

The girl walked down to the beach, stretching and yawning as she did so. It felt good to be standing up again, after having crouched for so long. Her back was aching and her clothes were all dirty now. She also realized she was absolutely starving. Being on the run had lost most of its initial appeal during the night, and now all she could think of was getting a proper breakfast, or lunch, or whatever it would be called at this hour. How would she manage that, though? She was almost out of money. But she wouldn't be calling her father. Not yet. After all, he had hurt her and she was still angry with him. Yes, she _was _still angry. It only took a little more effort on her part to work up that anger today, compared to yesterday. The most intense feelings seemed to have cooled off during the night. However, she still felt like she needed to think things through before facing her father again. What would she say to him? How would she respond to what he was going to say to her? Could it ever be the same between them, after what she had just found out about him and her mother? Would she ever be able to forget that she had been a drunken mistake? A mistake.

Alexandria took out the money from her pocket and counted it. There was only a few coins left, just about enough for a short bus ride if she wanted to get to the nearest coffeehouse. But then she wouldn't be able to buy anything. Unless…

"Dayzee's", Alexandria mused.

It was the only place she knew where it was possible to get some food for free if you happened to be out of money. It was also a great risk, considering Dayzee was a friend of the family and sure to know by now that Alexandria had run away. She would probably call Thorne as soon as she saw her walking into the coffeehouse.

Or maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't. Maybe Dayzee would want to talk first, and Alexandria could explain the situation. She really needed to talk to someone about this, someone who was objective and honest, and who wouldn't judge her. Dayzee was like that - she had lived in the streets, she had seen and heard a lot, and nothing could surprise her. She understood what it was like to be lost and feel betrayed. She could advise Alexandria on what to do.

Yes, Alexandria thought, she would go to Dayzee's.

* * *

"Welcome to LA, city of angels!" Shirley exclaimed.

Barbara looked out of the car window. So this was Los Angeles! It was a hot and sunny summer day, and as they were driving down the street people were walking around wearing as little as possible, and carrying bottles of water or soda.

But Barbara was shivering. Maybe it was all the tension from yesterday, she thought. Or maybe she was running a fever - no big deal, just a little elevation of temperature. She might be catching a cold. Or could it possibly be that… it had been almost two days since she last had a drink, and she hadn't gone that long without alcohol in months. Could it be that she just wasn't used to being sober? Barbara reluctantly pondered the possibility. She knew she couldn't drink now, not as long as she had the baby to look after, but the thought of it was never far from her mind.

"So where would you like to go?" Shirley asked. "You got any friends or family here?"

"Not really, I… I don't know", Barbara began. "I guess I should go somewhere to eat, and try to find a roof over my head…"

"I could talk to my sister, maybe you could come with me…" Shirley said.

"No, no!" Barbara answered hastily. "No, you've already helped me so much, I couldn't possibly let you go through more trouble for my sake."

"All right", the old woman said. "But let me at least check with her if she knows of any place where you could go."

Shirley stopped the car, picked up her phone and called her sister. Meanwhile, Noah had woken up and Barbara's attention was drawn towards him. She needed to focus on the baby, not on the strange sensations she was feeling. Again, Barbara had the vague uneasy notion that something was threatening her, something she couldn't put her finger on and therefore was unable to fight. She looked out of the window again. It was still sunny, but she could see that the air was filled with insects - flies, wasps, mosquitoes? She hated the idea of having to go outside in the middle of that swarm. Suppose Noah got stung? As long as they didn't get inside the car...

"I've got the place for you", Shirley said happily, hanging up the phone. "My sister knows these things. Apparently, there is this coffeehouse not too far from here where you can get food and coffee for free. It some kind of charity thing, it seems a lot of folks who come there are poor or homeless. And some of the people who work there are homeless too, or they used to be. They should be able to help you. Dayzee's, it's called."

"Sounds great", Barbara said, trying to smile even though the thought of all those insects made her dread getting out of the car at all.

They drove for a while and finally arrived at Dayzee's. Shirley stopped the car and looked at Barbara with concern.

"Will you be okay?" she asked. "You look a little worried."

"No, I'm fine", Barbara insisted. "Thanks again."

"By the way, I almost forgot!" Shirley exclaimed. "I found that CD I was talking about last night. I was going to show it to you but you didn't really seem to be, well, on that wavelength. You know, the one with the song you were singing?"

"Oh", Barbara said politely.

She didn't want to say that, in all honesty, she still wasn't really in the mood for those things. Shirley reached into the glove compartment of the car, took out an old CD and handed it to Barbara. It was a solo record with a female singer, whose photo was on the cover. The moment Barbara saw the photo, she froze.

It was the right face.

It was the face she had been expecting to see, every morning for the past two years when she looked at herself in the mirror. A beautiful, healthy-looking woman with impeccable hair and make-up, at least ten years younger than Barbara, but with a face that bore a decided resemblance to hers. Barbara stared at the picture, mesmerized. She read the name on the label, but it meant nothing to her. How could this be?

"I told you you were alike", Shirley said with satisfaction, clearly happy with the dramatic effect she had achieved. "And looking at you in broad daylight, you are even more alike than I first realized."

"Who is she?" Barbara asked, hardly able to speak. "How old is this record?"

"It was my sister who gave it to me, about ten years ago, no, more than that", she said. "I hadn't heard about this singer before, but as far as I remember, she's really good."

"What does she do now?"

Shirley laughed.

"Honey, I don't keep tabs on all the people whose CDs I have! I only know that Elvis is alive and living in Fiji, but that's about it."

Barbara didn't laugh. She looked at the photo again, and then at the entrance of the coffeehouse. Noah started crying. He probably needed a diaper change.

"I'd better go", Barbara said. "Could I… could I borrow this CD?"

"Just keep it", Shirley said. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks", Barbara said as she stepped out of the car. "Thanks for everything!"

* * *

Anthony was sitting at his favorite table at Dayzee's, slowly sipping a glass of ice tea. The coffeehouse was unusually crowded today with people who were seeking relief from the heat with something cold to drink in a nice air-conditioned room away from the burning sun.

The door opened and another customer entered. It was a thin, brown-haired woman carrying an infant. Something about the pair attracted Anthony's attention, and he started watching them more closely. The woman was trying to carry two plastic bags while holding the baby in her arms, and her movements seemed somewhat unsteady. As she walked into the coffeehouse, she almost stumbled on the steps but regained her balance at the last moment. Anthony could certainly sympathize - the height and width of the steps had been slightly altered when Dayzee's was last renovated a while ago and he, along with a lot of other regulars whose feet were accustomed to the old steps, had been stumbling at the entrance ever since. But this woman was not one of the usual customers. At least, Anthony didn't think so, but then again, he hadn't got a good look at her yet.

Suddenly, the woman turned around and he could see her face clearly. Anthony inhaled sharply. He recognized her! How could he not know that face, which had haunted him for months? The face he had first seen in his mind's eye when reading Thorne Forrester's fortune, and which had seemed so closely connected to the danger he sensed was threatening the entire Forrester clan. Now she had arrived, the living proof that Anthony's visions had been true. Who was she? What did she want? Why did he get this feeling of impending doom when looking a her? Was there anything he could do to prevent what he had seen happen? Could one fight fate?

"Lost in thought again?" Dayzee's cheerful voice said.

Anthony merely looked at her. Maybe there was something he could do to stop it all, to stop this unknown woman from ever crossing paths with the Forresters…

"Dayzee…" he began, "I was just looking at the woman who just arrived."

"The lady with the baby?" Dayzee said, nodding. "I know. She really looks like she needs help. She doesn't seem well at all, she's trembling all over, the poor thing. I wonder what happened to her. I should go over there and talk to her, get her something to eat…"

"No, Dayzee, don't do that!" Anthony exclaimed. "You have to get her out of here, quickly!"

"What?" Dayzee said frowning. "Anthony, have you completely lost your mind?"

"I know this sounds crazy", Anthony explained, "but I have a bad feeling about her. A really bad feeling, Dayzee."

"She looks harmless enough to me. What do you mean is wrong with her?"

"I don't know. It's just that when I look at her I get this very strong sensation of… of evil. I can't explain it."

"Evil, that woman?" Dayzee said incredulously. "No, I don't believe it. I know your intuition is great, Anthony, but this time I think you've got it wrong. Just look at her!"

They looked over at Barbara, who was talking to a waiter. The waiter asked if she would like something to eat or drink, but she said she first needed to find a bathroom to change the baby's diaper. The waiter showed her the way and Barbara thanked him.

"I'm not saying that she herself is evil", Anthony said thoughtfully. "On the contrary. But there is a field of evil around her, like a virus. She will bring it with her wherever she goes, and everyone she gets close to will be infected by it."

"That sounds a bit too spacey even for me", Dayzee protested.

"Yes, I know", Anthony sighed. "And I can't prove it. It's just that… I knew she would come here, I saw it before it happened. And I knew it would be the beginning of something…"

"Hold that thought!" Dayzee interrupted. "I've got to deal with this."

She had just noticed Alexandria walking through the door. Thorne's daughter had been missing since yesterday morning, and Dayzee had to talk to her while she could, before she disappeared again.

"Alexandria!" she called, running up to the girl as quickly as she could. "I'm so glad you are here, do you have any idea how worried everybody has been about you?"

Alexandria looked at Dayzee pleadingly.

"Please", she said, "don't call my dad yet! I just… I just can't talk to him right now, you know?"

"Look, Ally", Dayzee said, "I don't know what the deal is between you and your dad, but running away like you did isn't the answer. It's not safe to be alone in the streets at night. Believe me, I've been there. Anything can happen, and not everyone means well. You are lucky nothing bad happened to you. Nothing happened, right?"

"No", Alexandria said. "I'm fine. Just a bit dirty from sleeping under a porch."

She looked down on her clothes and tried to wipe the dust off her shorts. Then she sat down at a table to examine her backpack, opening it and taking out its contents to make sure that she hadn't lost anything on the way. Dayzee sat down by her, making a point of not losing sight of the girl.

"That's a beautiful doll!"

Dayzee and Alexandria both looked up to see who had spoken. It was the woman with the baby. She took the remaining vacant seat at the table, unable to take her eyes off Alexandria's old doll.

"May I… may I look at it?" the woman said in a trembling voice.

Alexandria threw the woman a curious glance and handed the doll to her. The woman was shaking as she held it in her free hand (as she was still carrying the baby on her other arm). It seemed to trigger some strong emotion in her. What a strange lady! So tense, so nervous, such a sad, weary face… and still, how entranced she seemed just looking at a small porcelain doll. Alexandria wondered where she had seen this woman before, but came to the conclusion that she hadn't. It was probably just a coincidental resemblance to some other person.

Barbara looked at the doll in her hand, feeling as if she was going to cry. What was it about that doll? It seemed so perfect, so full of peace and security. The right doll, just like the face on the CD cover had been the right one. She held it close to her face and smelled it. Even its faint scent had a soothing effect on her. And if ever she needed that, it was now. Because those insects just wouldn't leave her alone. It hadn't been just outside - they were here as well, in the coffeehouse. They were buzzing around her head and she had to fight them off constantly. Why didn't they seem to bother anyone else?

Suddenly, she noticed something far worse than the insects. A large black scorpion was crawling on the doll. She dropped it onto the table quickly, shouting as she did so for the others to look out. The young black woman and the little blonde girl who had lent her the doll said something she could not understand. They didn't seem to have noticed the scorpion. Yet, there it was again, crawling up her arm. She could see it clearly and felt its movements on her skin.

"Get it off of me!" Barbara pleaded, desperately. "Someone, get this thing away from the baby!"

But she soon realized it was to no avail. There was not only one scorpion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that there were many of them, hundreds, crawling on the walls and the floor. Shocked, she realized that the were all over her body and there was nothing she could do to get rid of them.

"Take the baby!" she cried to whoever was standing next to her. "Get him away from this…"

Someone took Noah from her arms. A sudden horrifying thought struck her. What if she had let the wrong person take him? What if they would take him back to Luigi? Barbara's heart was pounding fast and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. She needed to get out, to get away from the scorpions… What was everybody else doing, why were they just standing there in a circle around her? Couldn't they see the danger they were all in? She rose from the chair, looking desperately for the exit. But she couldn't see clearly, and she was shaking so violently that her legs gave way. There were agitated voices all around her, and the crawling sensations on her skin got stronger every second. Then, before she knew how it happened, she was on the floor, her muscles contracting forcefully and painfully.

"Call 911, she's having a seizure!" a voice said. Barbara wondered, almost curiously, who they were talking about.

Then she lost consciousness.


	18. Chapter XVIII: Delirium and Clarity

**Chapter XVIII: Delirium and Clarity**

The paramedics carried the stretcher with the unconscious woman into the waiting ambulance, which immediately drew off with blaring sirens. Alexandria stood looking after it in silence, still shaken by what had just happened. She had never witnessed someone having a seizure before, and it had frightened her. Dayzee came up to her, carrying the little child.

"I need to go to the hospital and see how she's doing", Dayzee said. "She'll want to see her baby. And her things are still here."

Alexandria looked at the two plastic bags that had been left on the floor by the table where the woman had been sitting.

"You should come with me, Ally", Dayzee said.

Alexandria stared at her, surprised.

"I'm not leaving you before I know you've spoken to your dad", Dayzee explained. "Besides, I could use some help. Could you take the bags, please? I've got my hands full with the baby."

Alexandria nodded and helped carry the bags to Dayzee's car. She put them in the back seat and then she sat down in the passenger's seat next to Dayzee. Handing over the baby to her, Dayzee cautioned her to be careful to hold him safely while they made their way through the traffic to the hospital.

Once they had arrived, they had some trouble finding out what had happened to the woman who had just been admitted, since nobody knew her name. But finally, they managed to find a helpful nurse who knew what had happened to the patient who had arrived in an ambulance from Dayzee's coffeehouse just now.

"She's in intensive care", the nurse explained. "I'll show you the way. Are you family?"

"Not me", Dayzee said. "But she got ill while visiting my coffeehouse, and I took care of her baby for her."

"I see", the nurse said. Then she was silent for some time while she navigated through the maze of hospital corridors. Finally they arrived in the ICU and the nurse said:

"Well, here we are. If you will just sit down for a moment I'm sure a doctor will be with you shortly."

Alexandria and Dayzee looked at each other and sat down on a couch in the waiting room. This day had taken quite an unexpected turn for both of them. Dayzee couldn't help thinking about what Anthony had said about the woman - that he had had a bad feeling about her. Was this what he had sensed?

A handsome middle-aged doctor walked up to them.

"I take it you are friends of the woman who was just admitted?" he said. "I'm Dr Meade. I think we should talk a bit. Could you tell me more about her - what's her name, who's her next of kin?"

"We don't know", Dayzee said apologetically. "She was just a customer, I have never seen her before. She came in at Dayzee's only a little while ago, with her baby."

Dr Meade froze.

"Her baby?" he repeated. "Is it this baby?"

Dayzee nodded and showed the infant to the doctor. Dr Meade looked perplexed.

"What's wrong?" Dayzee said, frowning.

"It's just that…" Dr Meade said, hesitating. "This can't be her child. It's a biological impossibility. And you say you have no idea whose child this could be? Did she say it was hers? Did she say anything about herself?"

"No, she said nothing", Dayzee answered. "She seemed very confused. Looked a bit feverish. And she was shaking really badly. Then she got kind of emotional looking at Ally's doll - oh, this is my friend Alexandria, she was there, too. Anyway, just before she fell to the floor, she started getting really incoherent, talking some nonsense about scorpions and not really seeming to respond when we tried to talk to her. It's a good thing she handed over the baby to me before she passed out."

"Were you the one who called the ambulance?" Dr Meade asked.

"Yes", Dayzee said.

"That was wise of you", the doctor continued. "Her condition is very serious. But I think we have an idea what could have caused it."

"What?" Dayzee inquired.

"Alcohol withdrawal. A very strong withdrawal reaction called delirium tremens. It can be fatal if left untreated, and sometimes even with treatment."

"I see", Dayzee said thoughtfully. "I kind of suspected something like that. I have known a lot of homeless people, and met many people with addiction problems…"

"So you see that it is very important that we reach her family, if she has any?" Dr Meade continued. "We don't really know at this point how she will respond to treatment, but we're doing everything we can."

"Maybe there is something in these bags that can give us a clue", Alexandria said helpfully, holding up the plastic bags that she had brought with her.

She emptied their contents onto the table by the couch. Diapers. More diapers. Baby formula. Baby bottles. No personal belongings, no wallet, no identification. Only… that was strange! Amidst all the diapers Alexandria found a CD. She picked it up with some curiosity, turning it over in her hand.

Then, suddenly, she gave a cry of surprise and dropped the CD on the floor. Dayzee gave the girl a puzzled look.

"What is it, Ally?" she inquired.

Alexandria didn't answer. She needed a moment to wrap her head around what she had just seen. What had she seen, really? A CD cover with a photo that she recognized only too well. A photo just like the ones that had revealed her father's lie just a few days ago. How ironic, she thought, that while running away from all that she would just happen to come across a CD with Macy Alexander! But it was more than ironic - it was spooky. Because this photo just confirmed the vague notion Alexandria had had earlier when she first laid eyes on the unknown woman with the baby. She had looked familiar. And this was why.

Without a word, Alexandria handed the CD to Dayzee, who looked at it closely, frowning.

"Yes, there is definitely a resemblance", she said thoughtfully. "But I don't see how… I mean, I thought she died many years ago, or am I wrong?"

"No, you're right", Alexandria said quietly. "That's what's so weird. But maybe she has a relative nobody knows anything about, or something. Or she's, like, a ghost. I don't know. This is starting to freak me out."

Dr Meade looked at the CD.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly natural explanation", he said. "Sometimes, two people can look very much alike without necessarily even being related. But I'm sure we'll manage to get a positive ID on the patient eventually. We'll have her fingerprints compared with police records, to begin with. And then there are dental records, medical records, DNA tests… but thank you both for your help!"

"You're welcome", Dayzee said, then, turning to Alexandria: "Don't worry, Ally. I'm sure you're getting yourself worked up over nothing. This is all probably just a coincidence - people don't just rise from the grave."

"In our family, they do."

"What's that?" Dayzee asked.

"Nothing", Alexandria said quickly. "Just some stories I've heard. Don't know if there's any truth to them."

They waited for what seemed like a very long time. Dayzee prepared the baby's bottle and fed him, but he was a bit cranky and wouldn't eat much. Alexandria was silent and preoccupied. She knew she probably should contact her father, and that Dayzee expected her to, but what would she say to him? Looking at the baby, Alexandria asked Dayzee if she could hold him. Dayzee agreed and Alexandria took him in her arms and started humming a lullaby to him. Almost immediately, the baby calmed down.

"Seems like he likes music", Alexandria observed. "Look, he's falling asleep!"

Finally, Dr Meade returned to the waiting room, but apparently, he had no time to talk to Dayzee and Alexandria. Instead, he was in the middle of an agitated whispered discussion with a couple of colleagues. They pointed down the corridor and threw glances in the direction of the waiting room couch where the two girls were sitting, holding the sleeping baby. A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened and two policemen entered. Dr Meade greeted them and they were invited to join the conversation. Dayzee observed the gathering for a while, and the next time Dr Meade's eyes wandered in her direction, she rose, an unspoken question on her lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry", Dr Meade said, walking up to her, "I should probably fill you in on what's happened. It does involve you, after all. Apparently, we have come across a true mystery with our unknown patient."

"What's going on?" Alexandria asked, looking up.

"I actually owe you an apology", Dr Meade said to Alexandria. "It seems you may have been right."

"About what?"

"Your theory about the woman's identity. The police records confirmed that her finger prints are identical to those of Macy Alexander, the singer who was on your CD."

Alexandria gasped.

"But, on the other hand," Dr Meade added, "we have medical records confirming her death, and a death certificate issued many years ago."

"So what does that mean?" Dayzee asked. "That makes no sense."

"Well, ruling out the possibility of resurrection, obviously, one of the records is false", Dr Meade said. "It could be a severe clerical error, or a case of deliberate fraud. The police will help us clear that up. But we will also try to get in contact with Ms Alexander's family right away, to get some answers and help with the identification."

"That will be really hard", Alexandria observed. "Grandma Sally is on a world cruise, and Uncle CJ was in France the last time I heard from him."

"You are related, then?" Dr Meade said, surprised.

"No. Not really. But her family… they're sort of my family, too. It's always been like that, because my mother…"

Alexandria didn't continue the sentence. She didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. It seemed like the more she tried to forget what she had just found out about herself and her parents, the more that very fact became impossible to avoid.

"Well, then", Dr Meade said hopefully, "maybe you know someone closer at hand we could contact. Some other family member, or a friend…"

"What about your dad?" Dayzee asked Alexandria. "I'm sure Thorne could help. Besides, Ally, you should call him anyway and let him know where you are."

Alexandria nodded. Of course Thorne could tell if the woman was Macy or not, they were married. He had a drunken one night stand with Darla while married to her. Alexandria was the reason the marriage ended. That one fatal "mistake".

Alexandria felt a sudden need to escape. She rushed out of the waiting room and into a nearby corridor. She couldn't process all this. The past few days, she had doubted whether things could ever be the same between her and her father - if their little family could ever go back to the way it was before she found out Thorne's secret. Now, she felt that possibility slipping even further away. After today, things could be changing forever.

Meanwhile, Dayzee took out her phone and found Thorne's telephone number for one of the police officers. The officer dialed the number, and Thorne's anxious voice answered before the first signal had stopped ringing.

"Yes?" Thorne said, breathlessly. He had spent all night and this morning searching for his daughter and always kept his phone nearby just in case she called.

"Mr Thorne Forrester?" the officer said. "I'm officer Jones from the Los Angeles police…"

"What is it?" Thorne asked, hurriedly.

"I'm at the intensive care unit at Cedars", officer Jones explained. "I wonder if you could please come over here and help us with the identification of a patient, a female possibly named Alexand…"

"Oh, my God!" Thorne exclaimed, interrupting the officer. "Dear God… how is she?"

"Her condition is very serious."

"No, no…" Thorne said, feeling his legs almost giving way underneath him. "I'm on my way."

Thorne hung up and ran to his car. All the way over to the hospital, he prayed that Alexandria would be all right. The officer had said her condition was "very serious". What did that mean, exactly? And why did they need him to identify her? Was she so badly hurt that they couldn't just ask her? She had to be okay, he thought. His little girl. His baby. The most important person in his life. If something were to happen to her… no, he couldn't even think about that. It was too horrible. Thorne thought back to the last time he had seen Alexandria. She had been so angry with him, so hurt. He wished he had handled things differently - somehow made her realize that she was no "mistake", as she had put it. Made her see that she was his greatest pride and joy. His little Ally. That clever, funny, sweet girl who was always right and had an answer to everything. The talented kid who had taught herself to play the piano because he had been too busy with E F Couture to teach her. Too busy! How could he ever have believed that he was too busy for his daughter? Only the day before she ran away, he had been "too busy" to go to the beach with her. What if that had been the last chance…?

His mind racing, Thorne parked his car in the street (no parking was allowed there, but he didn't care) and ran to the intensive care unit. The first thing he saw when he entered the waiting room was a police officer talking to a man in a white coat. They turned and looked at him as he entered.

"I'm Thorne Forrester", he said. "I'm here because…"

"Yes, yes", the man in the white coat said. "Thank you for coming. I'm Dr Meade. Maybe we should sit down?"

"I don't want to sit down!" Thorne almost shouted. "I just want to know what has happened to my daughter!"

"Your daughter?" Dr Meade said with a frown.

"Alexandria is here, isn't she?" Thorne asked. "The officer who called me said she was badly hurt. Please, just tell me my little girl is going to be okay…"

Alexandria, who had heard her father's voice and returned from the nearby corridor where she had withdrawn to think, watched the scene from behind a corner. Poor Dad, she thought with a pang of guilt. He looked completely devastated. She called out to him.

"Dad, I'm fine!"

Thorne looked up and saw his daughter in the other end of the room. He immediately pushed past the officer and ran to her with open arms.

"Ally, honey!" he cried out, pulling her close and covering her face with kisses. "I was so scared! I thought that you… thank God you're all right!"

"Dad!" Alexandria said, starting to cry as she hugged her father tightly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart", Thorne whispered. "I'm so sorry about everything. I should have been more honest with you. I should have known better… and I wish you'd never had to doubt, even for one second, how much I love you."

"I love you too, Dad", Alexandria said, feeling a bit guilty now that she saw how much her disappearance had effected her father. "And I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to run away like that. We should have talked it through, like adults."

Thorne laughed at his lovely, precocious daughter.

"Yeah", he said. "Like adults."

He let go of his daughter and scrutinized her closely. Her clothes were covered with dirt and her hair was a mess, but apart from that, he couldn't detect even a scratch on her.

"You don't seem hurt", he observed. "I was so worried, because the policeman said…"

"Um, yeah, Dad…", Alexandria began, "I'm not the one who's ill. I just happened to be nearby."

"But then I don't understand at all", Thorne said, looking from Alexandria to the doctor and the police officer. "What is going on here? Who is it that you want me to identify?"

"Please come with us, Mr Forrester", Dr Meade said, showing the way through a corridor. "Maybe it's best that you just see for yourself if our mystery patient is who we suspect she might be. We are all completely baffled here…"

"But I thought her name was Alexandria?" Thorne asked.

"You misheard me", officer Jones said, pointing to a door at the end of the corridor. "I said Alexander. In here."

Alexander? But he had only ever known one woman by that name… With a growing feeling of unreality, Thorne pushed open the door to the hospital room.

It was strange. Once Thorne had set foot in the room, he didn't even have to look at the woman who was lying in the hospital bed before knowing, without the shadow of a doubt, who she was. It didn't matter that it defied all logic and all common sense. All the years that had passed since the last time they met made no difference. He knew. He could feel it. And to his surprise, his acceptance of her unexpectedly showing up alive was immediate and complete - maybe due to the fact that he had never truly accepted her death in the first place.

"Macy?" he said softly. "Macy!"

Slowly, he walked across the room towards the bed. It was so quiet. All he could hear was the sound of his own footsteps and the faint humming noise of the blood racing through his veins. But not a word from her.

There must have been a chair by the bedside, because Thorne found himself sitting down next to the bed, without really noticing how he had ended up there. He hesitantly took the woman's hand, noticing with a thrill of joy that it was just as real as his own.

"So, in your opinion, is this woman Macy Alexander?" officer Jones asked.

"What?" Thorne said, confused.

He hadn't even been aware that the police officer and Dr Meade had followed him into the room, and their question seemed strangely out of place. It was hardly a matter on which one could have an "opinion".

"Do you think this is Macy Alexander?" Jones repeated. "Of course, we will investigate further in order to confirm her identity, but it would be helpful…"

"There's no need", Thorne interrupted. "I know my…"

Wife, he had intended to say. Tears rose to his eyes as he watched her. She hadn't changed at all since the first day he met her. It was true that she wasn't young anymore, and neither was he. But all that - wrinkles around the eyes, grey hairs, visible signs of aging - that was easy to overlook. The essence, what had made her _her_, was still there, unaltered even now.

"What is… why… how is she?" Thorne asked incoherently.

"I was going to talk to you about her condition", Dr Meade said. "She collapsed at Dayzee's a few hours ago after having shown signs of confusion and hallucinations. We have diagnosed her with delirium tremens, that is, severe alcohol withdrawal. She is also dehydrated and lacks several important minerals. Right now, the abstinence is causing her entire system to run amok, which is why we need to keep her sedated and closely monitor her blood pressure and heart rate for any irregularities."

"Irregularities?" Thorne repeated, suddenly alarmed.

"Yes, DT can sometimes cause cardiac arrhythmias. Your friend is very seriously ill, but for now she is stable."

"How bad…" Thorne began, but couldn't finish the sentence. "You're not saying she might…?"

"Her condition is potentially life-threatening, yes", Dr Meade said gravely.

Thorne looked at the sleeping woman and wiped his eyes.

"You don't know Macy", he said. "She's made it through a lot worse."

"Obviously", Dr Meade replied. "I've seen her medical records, according to which, she should already be dead. Do you know anything about that?"

Thorne shook his head.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" he said. "She's here. She's alive. It's her."

"We still haven't proven that for sure", officer Jones said. "But we are going to get to the bottom of this and find out what really happened here. And how she ended up with the baby."

"The baby?" Thorne inquired, startled. "But Macy can't…"

"Exactly", Dr Meade filled in. "She had a hysterectomy a long time ago. We noticed that when she was brought in. Nevertheless, she was seen entering the coffeehouse carrying an infant. Dayzee and Alexandria brought him here, too. He seems healthy, but we have no idea whose he is. The police are checking right now if any newborn babies have been reported missing lately."

"That is nonsense!" Thorne said defensively. "You can't seriously think that Macy would..."

"Sorry, sir", officer Jones said, "we're only doing our job."

"Well, maybe you should go and do it elsewhere!" Thorne snapped. "She is lying in that bed fighting for her life, and you talk about her as if she was some common criminal! Why don't you just leave us alone?"

Dr Meade nodded sympathetically and left the room, taking officer Jones with him. Thorne drew a deep sigh of relief.

"It's all right", he said, gently touching the woman's cheek. "Don't listen to them. They don't know you - not like I do. But I'm on your side, and I'm not going anywhere, so you don't have to worry. I'm not going to let them or anyone else hurt you, ever again."

Thorne looked at the unconscious woman and smiled, as if in response to an unspoken question.

"And yes, I'm including myself in that statement, Mace."

* * *

The Boss threw Luigi a menacing look.

"What do you mean she is 'gone'?" he said.

"I'm sorry, Boss", Luigi answered, looking down. "I don't know what happened. I thought I had it all under control. But that whole day was completely crazy, you know? We had that important business to take care of, and at the same time, the little kid had her baby and then she just croaked. I guess somewhere in the middle of all that, Barbie managed to get away."

"You've handled this badly, Luigi", the Boss observed. "Very badly. I thought I told you to take care of her before things got worse."

"I know, Boss", Luigi said apologetically. "But what would you have me do? It was hell trying to get rid of the kid's body without anybody noticing. I couldn't just go off chasing for Barbie before I'd taken care of matters here. Besides, she can't have got that far, with no money and carrying around an infant."

"Well, this is what you get for letting your feelings get the better of you!" the Boss observed. "You know it was a mistake to let her live in the first place. We don't do that. We don't leave witnesses. And I told you, time and time again, that she would be trouble down the road. Now look what's happened! For all we know, she may have run straight to the police."

"I don't think she'd do that", Luigi said. "I think she just wants…"

"You 'think'?" the Boss roared. "Have you been right about anything you've been 'thinking' so far? This woman has shown her disloyalty in the most obvious way possible. We both know what the consequences of that are, what counteractions are required. Now, Luigi, I would hate to have to question your loyalty, too. It would truly be such a… waste. You have been very valuable to me."

Luigi was starting to sweat. He knew only too well how the organization worked, and he knew a threat when he heard one. It was not only his credibility that was at stake now. It was his life.

"I will find her, Boss", he said with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes. You can trust me. I will prove it to you."

"Good", the Boss said, nodding his head. "But be quick. As of right now, we only have a small leak on our hands. It's only one mouth to silence. If she starts to talk, we'll have a much bigger mess on our hands."

"I realize that", Luigi said gravely. "I'll take care of Barbie."

The Boss smiled coldly.

"I'll leave it in your capable hands, then", he said. "But make a clean job of it this time - no witnesses!"

Luigi nodded. Of course. No witnesses.


	19. Chapter XIX: Tentative Reunions

**Chapter XIX: Tentative Reunions**

"Eric, you wanted to see me?" Donna asked as she entered the office.

"Oh, Donna, I'm glad you're here", Eric said. "That's more than can be said for everybody else. Where are people this morning?"

Donna looked out of the window. The sun was shining brightly from a blue sky, again.

"Maybe it's the heat", she mused. "It's been going on so long that it's starting to take its toll on everyone. I can't say I blame them for skipping work today."

"Well, we've got things to do", Eric said. "Our last collection was a success, but we need to keep up with the orders. Besides, we have to start working on the next one. I have some ideas I would like to run by Ridge, if he were here. And Thorne, well, do you know what's up with him? I haven't seen him in the office this week and he is very evasive whenever I try to call him."

"I have no idea", Donna said. "But I guess after everything that's been going on with Alexandria, maybe he just wants to spend some time with her."

Eric sighed.

"Of course", he said. "You are right. He needs to be with his daughter right now. And Ridge, well, he's been working hard for a long time, so I guess he deserves some time off, too. It's just that I tend to get a bit wrapped up in my work sometimes and I forget that other people have their own lives outside of work too…"

"I know", Donna replied. "It happens when you don't have anything else to focus on. We all need something to keep us busy. To make us feel less lonely."

Eric looked at her without replying. Their eyes met. Donna and Stephanie had never got along and they had been as different as two women could be, but he had loved both of them, in different ways. And it was clear to him that Donna could understand the void that had been left in his life after Stephanie's passing. A void than still couldn't be filled.

"You are right", Eric said. "This company is a lifeline to me. When I'm here, I have a purpose. I'm not just an aging widower whose best years are behind him."

"You are never that!" Donna objected. "Eric, you are still one of the most handsome men I've met. And I'm not just saying that because I was married to you. Don't talk like that about yourself, like… like you were old."

"I am old", he stated. "But thank you for trying to cheer me up, Donna. That was sweet of you."

Taking Donna's hand, he smiled at her gratefully.

* * *

Steffy and Thomas were sitting on the beach outside Taylor's house, still wet after their swim.

"We should do this more often", Steffy said. "Some good old sibling bonding. Do you remember how you used to try to teach Phoebe and me how to surf?"

"I remember I tried", Thomas said, teasing his sister. "I don't remember you actually making any progress."

"Well, I guess it was the teacher", Steffy replied. "Because I ended up learning to surf on my own, and these days, I'm positive I can hold my own against you or anyone!"

"Ooh!" Thomas said. "Do you know how damaging it is to my ego that my little sister beats me at everything she tries her hand at?"

"What can I say?" Steffy shrugged. "I'm just that good."

"What are you guys talking about?" Taylor said, joining them on the beach and bringing ice cold lemonade.

"Nothing important", Steffy said, smiling. "By the way, thanks for inviting us over, Mom. I think you were right, we needed a break. It's been crazy over at Forrester, trying to figure out a way to move past that fiasco of a showing."

"But we're going to bounce back", Thomas said. "We have to. We'll think of something. Something spectacular! We'll get them to notice us at last."

"Thomas!" Taylor said reproachfully. "I thought the idea was not to talk about work today."

"Right. Sorry, Mom." Thomas said. "It's just that…"

"It can wait until tomorrow", Taylor said. "You both need to relax a bit or you'll be good for nothing, especially in this heat."

The sound of a car parking on the driveway interrupted them.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Steffy asked.

"Maybe… I was hoping…" Taylor began.

"Hi Doc, hi kids!" Ridge's voice called out behind them.

"Ridge! You came!" Taylor exclaimed happily. "I wasn't sure if you'd show up."

"Mom? What's your plan?" Thomas asked.

"I was just thinking", Taylor said, "that this stupid argument has been going on for long enough. It's time we just came together as a family for one day, and forgot about all those business issues!"

"I agree", Ridge said. "And now you see, son, that running a company takes years of experience. Isn't it better that you learn all that from your old man, rather than the hard way, through failures and mistakes?"

"No business talk!" Taylor reminded him. "It's obvious our son takes after you. Here, have some lemonade!"

Ridge laughed.

"You are incorrigible, Doc!" he said. "Are you counseling me now?"

"Maybe", Taylor replied, smiling. "Is it working?"

"Maybe."

"Thomas, why don't we go for another swim?" Steffy said, throwing her brother a significant glance.

"Yeah", Thomas said immediately. "It's getting hot here."

They ran into the water, leaving Taylor and Ridge alone on the beach.

"Do you remember how we used to go swimming every day when we lived here?" Taylor asked.

"At least once a day!" Ridge said. "It's a wonder we didn't grow fins."

"Seems like only yesterday, doesn't it?"

"What?" Ridge joked. "You mean it wasn't yesterday?"

Taylor laughed.

"You are beautiful when you laugh, Doc", Ridge observed. "You should try doing it more often."

"I haven't had all that much to laugh about lately."

Ridge suddenly bent forward and placed a kiss on Taylor's lips. She gasped with surprise but didn't push him away.

"What about now?" Ridge said, raising one eyebrow and smiling boyishly at her.

Taylor merely blushed and turned away. But inside, she felt like she was bubbling with joy.

* * *

Thorne pulled a chair close to the hospital bed, sat down and took Macy's hand. This past week, his whole life had been turned upside down, in more ways than one, but whenever he was in that hospital room with her, he felt at peace. Like no matter how crazy the situation was, everything was somehow as it should be - more so than it had been in years.

After he had taken Alexandria home that surreal day, they had had a long talk, "like adults" - those were the words his daughter had used. For the first time, he had spoken openly to her about all those things he had always been afraid to mention. The things he had been trying to protect her from, without realizing that hiding the truth had been more hurtful to her than telling her about it would have been. Sometimes, he had feared that it would be too much for Alexandria to take in at once, but she had been the one to reassure him and urge him to keep going. So it had all come out into the open - his past life prior to his marriage to Darla, the circumstances around Alexandria's birth, memories from her early childhood, up to and including his recollections of Darla's last moments. They had never spoken about that in detail before, both trying to protect the other from reliving the pain, but Thorne now realized that Alexandria did have a pent up need to talk about it. She was no ordinary thirteen-year-old - when children lose a parent as early in life as she had, there is no way to prevent some parts of them growing up prematurely, and other parts not growing up at all.

When Thorne had finished telling his story, Alexandria had been quiet for a while. Then she had looked at him thoughtfully, and said:

"So, what happens now?"

At first, Thorne hadn't understood what she meant, so he had asked her about it.

"With Macy, I mean", she had clarified. "You still care a lot about her, don't you? I saw the look on your face when you came out of her room today. So do you plan on getting back together with her? Because if you do, I'd much rather hear it from you than figure it out for myself."

Alexandria's question had quite thrown Thorne off balance. She had obviously pondered every possible scenario, even the ones that Thorne himself hadn't allowed himself to think about. It was typical of Alexandria these days - she wanted to know, to be prepared for every eventuality. She didn't want to be caught off guard. Thorne had had to reassure her by explaining that as far as he knew, Macy was married to somebody else and still wanted nothing to do with him. Besides, she was very ill and all that really mattered was her getting well again. Macy was first and foremost his friend, and it was as a friend he would be there for her.

As Thorne sat with her in the hospital room today, he tried convincing himself of the same things he had told Alexandria a few days earlier. But he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to those possibilities he had so adamantly denied in front of his daughter. Was he really there as a friend? Would a mere friend sit by Macy's bedside every day, for hours at a time, talking to her even though he knew she could not hear him because of the heavy sedatives she had been given, or just watching her to make sure she was still breathing?

The door opened and Dr Meade entered. He showed no surprise at Thorne's presence.

"Mr Forrester, it's good that you're here", he said. "I have some information for you."

"What kind of information?" Thorne said, suddenly alert.

"It seems we have finally got a bit closer to solving the mystery of the incompatible records", Dr Meade explained. "The additional tests we've made have confirmed her identity - it is without a doubt Macy Alexander."

"I could have told you that", Thorne said.

"As I recall, you did", Dr Meade said. "But the interesting thing is that the final report in her medical record, the one that notes her being taken off life support and time of death, wasn't signed by any of the doctors working in the hospital at that time. The signature is illegible, and the same bogus signature is on the death certificate."

"So this was deliberate?" Thorne asked. "But who would have done something like that? And where has she been all these years? Unless…"

"Unless what, Mr Forrester?"

"Nothing", Thorne said.

He had just realized that the most likely culprits were Sally Spectra, who had been the only person present when her daughter was taken off life support, and Adam Alexander, who had in fact pulled something very like this once before. Or possibly both of them. Whatever the case might be, Thorne was reluctant to accuse his former in-laws of what was probably a criminal act in the eyes of the law.

"There was another thing", Dr Meade continued. "Since Macy's condition is stable and the worst withdrawal symptoms should have subsided by now, we have started to cut back on the sedatives. She should be waking up soon. I'm sure it will be a comfort to her if you are with her. It is essential that she stay as calm as possible."

Thorne nodded, his heart starting to beat faster. He had never thought he would hear Macy's voice again, or get to talk to her, but now that moment was almost here. And he realized he didn't know what to say to her. He had been talking to her for days, but the knowledge that she might actually hear him made him tongue-tied. Instead, Thorne sat silently looking at the woman's face, searching for the first signs of consciousness.

The first thing she was aware of, before even opening her eyes, was someone holding her hand. A warm, steady, reassuring grasp that instantly made her feel comfortable, even though she didn't know who was there. She moved her fingers slightly and felt the other hand tightening its hold in response. Opening her eyes slowly, she tried to get used to the light that suddenly flooded them. Where was she?

"Macy?" a man's voice spoke.

To her? She looked around. The only other person in the room was the man who had spoken, a handsome blonde man with the kindest eyes she had ever seen. She was lying in a bed, surrounded by machines and IVs. It must be a hospital room. Why was she in hospital? Was she sick? Had she had an accident? Who was the man? He looked a bit familiar - hadn't she seen him somewhere before? And where was… where was the baby? Dear God, the baby!

"Noah…" she whispered.

The man seemed confused. She tried again:

"The baby… Noah..." she moaned. "Where is he?"

"Oh", the man said, finally understanding, "the baby is just fine. My friend Dayzee has looked after him since you came here. You've been sedated for several days."

"I have? Why?"

"You collapsed in Dayzee's coffeehouse. The doctor says you had a very severe case of alcohol withdrawal. I'm sure he'll be here soon, he will explain it to you much better than I could."

"So you're not… you don't work here?"

The man seemed taken aback. He took a deep breath and stared with alarm in his eyes. Had she said something wrong?

"No", he said with forced calm. "I'm Thorne. Don't you… don't you recognize me?"

"Thorne…" she replied, trying the word out in her mouth, searching her memory for associations. "Thorne… Thorne Forrester?"

Thorne nodded vigorously and smiled. He looked relieved.

"Yes", she continued. "I saw you on TV. And in a magazine…"

Obviously, that was not the right thing to say, either, because the concerned look on Thorne's face returned. She felt like she had stumbled into a play without knowing her lines.

"Macy", Thorne said, his voice shaking a little now, "you… you know me. You have known me half your life."

"I'm sorry", she said. "I can't… I can't remember. I don't even know who I am."

Thorne took a CD from the bedside table and handed it to her.

"This is you", he explained anxiously. "You had this with you when you got here."

She looked at the CD thoughtfully. Of course - it was the one that Shirley had given her. The text on the cover still read 'Macy Alexander', and the woman on the photo still looked eerily familiar.

"Yes", she finally said. "This is me. I thought it might be."

"But you don't actually remember?"

Macy shook her head.

"No."

Dr Meade entered the room. Seeing that his patient was awake, he shook her hand and introduced himself.

"Hello, Macy, I'm Dr Meade", he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired", Macy answered. "Confused."

"She can't recognize me, or remember who she is", Thorne added. "Is that… is that normal? Is it the drugs?"

Dr Meade looked concerned.

"Is that true, Macy?" he asked.

"Yes", she replied. "But it's been like that for a long time."

"Even before your collapse?" Dr Meade asked.

"Long before. Years. Ever since I recovered from the head injury."

Dr Meade consulted the medical records.

"That's right", he said. "You suffered severe head trauma a long time ago, caused by a falling chandelier."

So that had been a lie, too! She hadn't been attacked in the street. Everything she had been told so far by Luigi about her past life had been false. Her name, her history, her relations. How could she know for sure that she was being told the truth now?

"Do you remember anything at all from before your accident?" Dr Meade asked. "Your birthday, your parents, what school you went to, siblings, friends?"

Macy thought for a moment. She had often asked herself the same question these past few years and drawn a blank every time. Why did they torment her like this? She already knew she couldn't remember, why did they have to try to make her do something that was impossible? Whenever she tried to reach one of those elusive memories, all that came into her mind were these random meaningless scenes that were probably not even recollections of real events - she might just as well have imagined them.

"Any recollection at all?" the doctor insisted.

"I don't know", Macy said, finally giving in. "I may just have dreamt it or made it up, but sometimes I have this strange image in my head that I can't explain…"

"What?" Thorne said, curiously.

"I must be a very small child, because I'm sitting under a table somewhere", Macy began. "It's kind of dark down there. There's a mechanical sound, I don't know how to describe it, it's a bit like an old typewriter, only it isn't a typewriter. I'm playing with this big green schmatta…"

"Schmatta?" Dr Meade interrupted, confused.

"Rag", Thorne translated, grinning.

"…and there's a man nearby, mumbling something in a foreign language", Macy continued. "He sounds a bit grumpy, but I know he's actually the nicest person… Then I can't remember anything more. Like I said, it doesn't make any sense."

Dr Meade looked inclined to agree with her, but Thorne's grin had broadened. Noticing it, Macy looked at him with some annoyance.

"What?" she said, trying to sound reproachful but failing because she found Thorne's silly smile contagious.

"I think it makes perfect sense", Thorne said. "The mechanical sound you were hearing, do you think that could have been a sewing machine?"

Macy looked at him in amazement. That was it! Why hadn't she thought of it before?

"And the foreign language", he continued, "what did it sound like?"

"I don't know", Macy said. "German? No… I don't know."

"Yiddish?" Thorne suggested.

"Why would it…?" Macy asked, surprised. "I guess it could have been."

"You used to tell me stories about how you would play down in the sewing room at Spectra as a child", Thorne explained. "I think the man you remember was Saul, your mother's tailor. It was one of Sally's favorite stories to tell at family gatherings how, while she was busy in the office, you would spend so much time down there with Saul as a toddler that you picked up his vocabulary. She would finish by saying 'you know you work too much when your daughter learns to say schmatta before she says mama'!"

Macy and Thorne both laughed. Even Dr Meade looked amused.

"So it was a real memory all along", Macy mused, feeling very elated by this small victory.

What Thorne had told her felt right. Besides the small fragment she had just related, she couldn't actually say that she remembered any of it, but it all made sense to her in a way that Luigi's fabrications never had. There was just one thing… Thorne had talked about family gatherings. That had to mean that he was family. And she couldn't recall how or if they were related. She thought about his initial reaction when he first had realized that she only recognized him as a face in a magazine. He had been shocked, alarmed even. And probably hurt, too. Macy looked at Thorne, observing the way he looked at her. Attentively, protectively, affectionately. Something about that fond look in his eyes made her want to cry. He seemed to have hoped for something that she had been unable to give him.

"Thorne, I wish I could remember more", she said regretfully. "I didn't mean to upset you earlier. I'm so sorry."

"You're here", Thorne said, smiling at her. "That's what matters. That, and getting you back on your feet."

They were silent for a while. Dr Meade had left the room without either of them noticing.

"Were we close?" Macy suddenly asked.

Thorne nodded, but didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked away, sadly, gathering his thoughts, trying to figure out what to reply. Finally, he turned back to her and said gravely:

"We were married."

"Oh, God!" Macy exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm… I'm your wife?"

"Not anymore", Thorne admitted. "Our marriage ended a long time ago, before your accident."

"Why?"

Thorne pondered his answer for a moment. If he had learnt anything from the past week's falling out with Alexandria, it was the importance of honesty. Honesty. He took a deep breath.

"Because I screwed up", Thorne blurted out quickly. "We had a stupid misunderstanding, I got drunk, slept with your best friend and got her pregnant."

"Yeah, that does sound like a deal breaker", Macy said, raising an eyebrow.

"If you want nothing to do with me, even as a friend, I'll understand", Thorne continued nervously. "I'll walk out that door right now…"

"Thorne", Macy interrupted, putting her hand on his arm, "you don't have to do that."

""You still want me here?" Thorne asked, incredulously. "Even after what I did to you?"

"Yeah", Macy said, smiling. "Don't ask me why. Maybe I'm still under the influence of… whatever it is I'm on. I'll kick you out tomorrow. Today… I'm just glad you're here."

Thorne beamed back at her.

"So am I, Mace", he said. "So am I."


	20. Chapter XX: What Are Friends For?

**Chapter XX: What Are Friends For?**

"So, you and Ridge have found your way back to one another?" James Warwick asked curiously.

It was late afternoon and he had stopped by Taylor's beach house to say hello on his way home. She had invited him in for a cup of tea and a chat, obviously dying to talk to someone about the recent events in her personal life.

"I wouldn't say that", Taylor answered hesitatingly. "I wouldn't want to jinx it. But he did kiss me. And there is something different with him. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has finally broken free of Brooke's spell."

"Spell?" James asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that your professional opinion?"

"I try to keep my work and my personal life separate", she said, smiling. "Not that I'm always so good at that."

"I know what you mean", James said gravely. "And I do think it is not a thing to be taken lightly."

"Of course, I forgot", Taylor said guiltily. "You lost your medical license because of… because of your involvement with Sheila Carter."

"Yes, I did", James said. "It took many years before I got my license back, and even longer before my professional reputation was restored."

"I never did understand that", Taylor mused. "I have always known you to be such a brilliant psychiatrist. How could you allow yourself to be taken in by someone like Sheila? I mean, you knew her history. You had correctly diagnosed her as a psychopath, and you knew she was a threat to herself and others. Even so…"

"Indeed", James said, shaking his head. "I have often wondered the same. Sheila was not capable of empathy, she lacked the boundaries that most of us have, she was violent, ruthless and dangerous. But even so, after months of intense therapy, I thought I could see a different side of her. A side of her that was trying to be a better person, that was struggling to suppress those destructive urges and learn how to do the right thing. She had it in her - I saw it sometimes when we were together. And I saw it when she was with Mary. Sheila tried very hard to be a good mother. She was very protective and loved our daughter very much, maybe a little too fiercely. Her attachment to Mary was always a little unhealthy, but very sincere."

"It nearly cost me my life", Taylor reminded him. "Her warped desire to give Mary a good life robbed three children of their mother for many years."

"I know", James said sadly. "And it has been a lot for Mary to work through over the years. Thank God she is such an intelligent and level-headed young woman that she managed to process those experiences and turn them into a desire to help others."

"It's like I always said", Taylor remarked, "she takes after her father. She is lucky."

"No", James said, "I am the fortunate one."

"Our children are truly the greatest blessing in our lives, aren't they?" Taylor said. "Every day I thank God for Thomas and Steffy. I just wish…"

"Your daughter Phoebe", James said sympathetically. "I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for you to lose her."

"I hope you never have to know, James", Taylor answered. "I thought I would never be able to go on and be happy again. I thought the grief would drive me mad. No parent should even have to know what that is like."

"I'm sorry, Taylor", James said. "I shouldn't have brought this up now. You just wanted to share a positive experience that you had with Ridge, and I…"

Taylor put a reassuring hand on James' arm.

"You did nothing", she said. "Phoebe is always with me, whether I talk about her or not. And I know it's the same for Ridge. I think that's one of the reasons why he understands me, probably better than anyone."

"Then I take it you are hoping for another chance for the two of you, after all?" James asked.

"We'll see", Taylor said noncommittally, "if it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"What about Thorne?" James asked curiously. "I know you two broke it off…"

"That was not meant to be", Taylor said. "We both realized that, at last. You were right all along."

"I don't recall telling you…" James objected.

"You didn't have to", Taylor said. "I know you. And anyway, I think it was all for the best. This way, both Thorne and I had a chance to figure out what we really want in life."

* * *

"Hi, Dad!"

Thorne looked around as he closed the front door. He hadn't expected Alexandria to be home from Hannah's already. But there she was, curled up in the couch, eating ice cream and reading a book.

"Hi, honey!" he said, then added jokingly: "How was your play date?"

"Fine, how was yours?" Alexandria retorted.

For a second, Thorne didn't know what to answer.

"Come on, Dad", his daughter continued, "You've been to see Macy, right?"

"How did you know that?" Thorne said, feeling a little embarrassed for no reason.

"The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior", Alexandria replied in her best Dr Phil voice. "You've been there every day so far."

"Okay", Thorne admitted with a smile. "You're right as usual. I did stop by the hospital."

"And how is your girlfriend doing?"

"Better", Thorne replied. "And she is not…"

"Right, whatever", Alexandria said. "She is your long lost friend slash ex-wife."

"Exactly", Thorne said, trying to sound convincing. "But, Ally, there is something I would like to discuss with you…"

"What?" Alexandria said, a little worried.

"Well", Thorne began, not knowing if he should even be mentioning this idea of his, "they will be releasing Macy from the hospital soon, and it's going to be tough for her. Her family is out of town, she has no memory of her past, she has just stopped drinking and then of course there's the baby…"

"Dad, where are you going with this?" Alexandria asked, suspiciously.

"I was just thinking…" Thorne said, hesitantly,"how would you feel if we offered Macy and the baby to stay here with us for a little while? Just until she gets back on her feet."

"I don't even know her!" Alexandria objected. "I only met her once, and then she went all weird and passed out."

"I know", Thorne replied. "That is why I wanted to talk to you first, Ally. I haven't mentioned this idea to Macy yet. It's your call. If you're not comfortable with it, we'll just forget about it, okay?"

"I'm not sure…" Alexandria said.

"I was also thinking it might be a good idea for you two to get to know each other. After all, she was your mother's closest friend and probably one of the people who knew Darla best."

"But she doesn't remember that, right?" Alexandria pointed out.

"No", Thorne answered. "At least, not now."

"Do you think it would help her get her memory back if she sees things that could remind her of her past? Or if you tell her about things that happened?"

"Maybe", Thorne said doubtfully. "I guess nobody knows for sure how it's going to turn out…"

Alexandria sat silently for a while, finishing what was left of her ice cream. Would it really be so bad, she thought, having Macy stay there for a few days? But what if it wasn't just for a few days? "Until she gets back on her feet", her father had said. That could mean anything. And suppose once she got used to staying with them, she wouldn't want to leave again? What if she would make Thorne "behave" and turn him into a different person, just like he had been when he was with Taylor? At least she couldn't be worse than Taylor… or could she?

"What's she like?" Alexandria suddenly asked. "Macy, I mean. Since she was friends with Mom, does that mean they were anything alike?"

"Yes and no", Thorne said thoughtfully. "They were both very kind and loving people. But I would say Darla was more carefree than Macy. Goofier, if you know what I mean, her head filled with all these crazy ideas. Macy was always more serious, more levelheaded and subdued. Then again, she almost had to be, with a mother like Sally Spectra. You remember her, right?"

"Grandma Sally?" Alexandria said, laughing. "How could I ever forget her? That hair! She is awesome!"

"She certainly is", Thorne agreed. "That lady is one of a kind. Just imagine, going on a world cruise, at her age!"

"Shouldn't we try to find her, though?" Alexandria said, struck by a sudden thought. "I mean, with everything that's happened… And everyone else probably wants to know too."

"You're right", Thorne said. "I've tried to reach her, but I guess she's off somewhere really remote. And I haven't managed to get hold of CJ either. As for the rest of our family, well, they'll need to find out what's going on of course, I just didn't want to spread the news until I'd spoken to Macy and made sure she was okay with it. I mean, maybe she'd rather explain this to everyone herself."

"Yeah…" Alexandria mused. "Dad, why do these strange things always happen in our family?"

"What things?"

"You know, people showing up alive even though everyone thought they died. Didn't you say this happened once before with Macy? Everyone thought she was dead when she was really living in Italy with her Dad, hiding from the mob, right?"

"Yes, that's right", Thorne confirmed. "And it also happened with Taylor, twice. Both times she was supposedly dead but in fact she was living with a Moroccan prince who saved her life. How about that?"

"That's crazy!" Alexandria said, laughing. Then, quickly turning serious, she added:

"Sometimes I just wonder if…"

"What, honey?" Thorne asked.

"If everyone could be wrong about Taylor and Macy, why couldn't they have been wrong about Mom?" she said quietly.

Thorne looked at his daughter. She was earnest, sad. There were tears of disappointment in her eyes. He pulled her close and hugged her as she started crying. Thorne realized that with Macy's reappearance, the wound that Alexandria had been carrying inside her ever since Darla's death had been torn open again. The impossible had happened. Death itself had been proven not to be definitive, but a mere false assumption in this case. For years, Alexandria had been secretly praying for a miracle like this. But it had happened to the wrong person.

"Why isn't it Mom?" the girl sobbed. "I don't want Mom to be dead anymore!"

Thorne only held her, without speaking. There was nothing else he could do.

* * *

Macy woke up with a scream and sat up in her bed. Gasping for air, she found that the sheets were soaked with sweat and that the moon was shining in through the window in the hospital room, filling it with an eerie bluish light. She had been having a nightmare, but now, she couldn't remember what it had been about. The only things left of it were her pounding heart and an unspecific feeling of dread she couldn't shake.

She was alone. Thank God - when she first opened her eyes she had had a feeling that someone or something had been in the room with her, a malevolent being. Luigi? Was he looking for her? Maybe he had already found her and was waiting in the dark to make his move… No, there was nobody there, she told herself. Nobody. Just down the corridor, the nurses were working night shift. All she had to do was call for them and they would come and tell her so, too. Then they would give her something to make her sleep, like they had the night before, and they would go away, leaving her alone again, as if nothing was wrong.

But her fears were real. She knew where she had been, and what she had seen. The man who didn't hesitate to sacrifice a child's life in order to keep his business running smoothly would certainly not have any mercy on her. Not after she had run away. And even less if she went to the police with what she knew. They had been there to see her today, asking questions she couldn't or wouldn't answer. About where she had come from, and whose the baby was. She had tried to explain to them as well as she could that Noah's mother had been an orphan who had died giving birth to him, and that she had asked Macy to look after him. Should she have given them Diana's full name? Maybe, but then they would have ended up in the right town, searching for the girl's body, and Luigi would know for sure who had provided them with that information. He might leave her alone if she just stayed quiet, but never if she turned informant.

Besides, now it wasn't just about her and Noah anymore. There were other people involved, people who knew who she was and where she was. That information could be dangerous for them, too. Dr Meade. Dayzee, the young woman whom she vaguely remembered from the coffeehouse and who had been looking after the baby during Macy's hospital stay. And Thorne. Dear God, Thorne. The man who had been by her side every day, even before she was aware of his presence, holding her hand and speaking reassuringly to her. Most of all, she was afraid for him.

But what could she do, in her current condition? She needed to stay put for the time being, since she couldn't manage on her own - she had finally realized that now. Dr Meade had told it to her straight, in no uncertain terms. Alcoholism. If she had continued drinking, the alcohol would have ended up killing her. And when she had stopped abruptly on her own after Noah's birth, the withdrawal could have killed her as well.

The doctor had gone over her test results with her, talked to her about treatments, going to AA, counseling… Her heavy drinking over the past few years had been harmful to her liver, but the damage was not yet irreversible, thankfully. However, Dr Meade had warned her - she had to give it up immediately, if she wanted to stay alive. Her body couldn't take it any longer. At first, Macy hadn't wanted to believe him. She wouldn't take in that it could be as bad as all that - after all, she had been going on like this for years and still managed to function, more or less. But he had been adamant, insisting that those were the facts. Finally, she had had to reluctantly accept his medical expertise.

So why did it feel like the only thing that would make her feel better right now was a drink? Just one, to take the edge off this anxiety, this constant fear. It was what she needed, her whole body and mind were screaming for it. Could they really be deceiving her? Did Dr Meade really know what he was talking about? If alcohol was poison to her, why did she feel so bad without it? Why did she have this urge? Did it even matter? She had to have that one drink, if it was the last thing she ever did! Looking around, Macy weighed her options. Where could she find alcohol at 2:30 in the morning, in the hospital?

Suddenly, her eyes landed on a sink by the wall, just a few feet away. The doctors used it to wash their hands when they entered. Running water, soap… and a bottle of hand sanitizer. Eagerly, Macy crawled out of bed. When she tried to stand up for the first time since her collapse, she noticed that she was weaker than she had expected, and sat down on the bed for a while to gather her strength and wait for the dizziness to subside. The she made another attempt. Leaning on her IV stand, she made her way to the sink. She picked up the hand sanitizer and tried to read the label in the moonlight.

Ethanol. This was alcohol. 62%. More than vodka.

She squirted some of the clear gel into the palm of her hand. It even smelled like alcohol. She wondered what it would taste like - probably not too good. But she had had her fair share of bad booze at Luigi's.

Then, momentarily, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the sink. There she was, Macy Alexander, standing in a room at Cedars in the middle of the night, wearing an ugly hospital gown, hooked up to a bunch of IVs, her eyes frantic and her face a sickly white, ready to devour a bottle of hand sanitizer.

With a cry of disgust, she threw the bottle away and wiped her hand clean on a paper towel. This was not her! That person in the mirror, that pathetic, desperate creature, couldn't be her!

But it was.

When the realization hit her, she sank to the floor and just sat there, crying, for a long time. She had seen it now - what Dr Meade had seen, what Pearl had seen, what everybody must have seen all along. Macy the alcoholic. That sorry drunken good for nothing excuse of a woman, who couldn't even control her own impulses! How could they even look at her with those helpful, friendly faces, when all they must really feel for her was contempt?

At least, that's how she felt about herself. The doctor had said she needed to struggle to stay sober, to get healthy, to get herself back on track. Was she even worth fighting for? What did she have to keep her going? In the eyes of the world, she was already dead. In her own eyes, she might as well be. It should have been her, anyway. Not Diana. Not an innocent child. And she had been unable to save her. Why? Because of this! Because she had been too drunk to think straight! She should have got Diana away from that place a long time ago, long before… Anyone in their right mind would have seen that. But Macy hadn't been in her right mind, had she?

Was she in her right mind now? The thoughts were racing through her brain so fast that she could no longer keep track of them. She feared that she really was going mad. Where was it, that last straw of sanity, of mundane reality, that anchor that would bring her back to her senses before it was too late? Could anyone help her if she couldn't help herself, or was she in fact, ultimately, alone?

An object caught her eye in the faint light. The phone on the bedside table. She rose and stumbled back to the bed. Sitting down, she looked at the phone and the little piece of paper that way lying on the table next to it. Something was scribbled in pencil on that paper. Thorne's number.

He had written it down before leaving earlier today (or was it yesterday?), with the express instruction that she should call him if ever she needed to talk, "day or night". But, of course, he couldn't have meant that literally. He would be asleep by now and she didn't want to bother him with her personal demons.

Macy looked at the number again. "Day or night…" Maybe she could make a quick call, let the phone ring just once. Then, if he was awake he would pick it up, and if he was asleep he probably wouldn't notice, or he would wake up briefly and just turn in his bed and go back to sleep.

Feeling a little guilty, she picked up the phone and dialed the number. The first signal hadn't even finished ringing before Thorne answered.

"Macy?" he said immediately.

"Thorne, I… I…" Macy stuttered, not really prepared that he would pick up the phone so quickly, "I'm sorry to wake you up like this…"

"You didn't", Thorne said reassuringly. "I was waiting for you to call."

"You were?" Macy said, dumbfounded. "How did you know…?"

"Well, it's just before 3 AM. That's the time when you would usually wake up at night the first time you went through withdrawal, many years ago. I would hear you pacing the floor in the living room of our apartment, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, you would come back to bed looking like you'd seen a ghost, and I would do my best to help you calm down."

"Did it work…?" Macy asked.

"Of course, every time", Thorne replied. "A little while with me is enough to put anyone to sleep. I have that effect on people."

"I don't necessarily want to sleep" Macy said. "I just want to get through the night."

"It's that bad, is it?" Thorne said in a serious tone.

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not really. I'm just… I feel so ashamed. I shouldn't be bothering you with this, Thorne. I'm sorry. You must think I'm so weak…"

"No!" Thorne objected. "I don't think that at all! On the contrary. You're one of the strongest people I know, Macy."

"I don't feel too strong right now", Macy said. "If I were, I wouldn't be here in the first place."

"Strength isn't about never falling", Thorne said. "It's about getting up again. And that's what you do. It's what you've always done. You may not remember it now, but I've seen you fight this disease before, and come out on top. And you've already proven you can beat the odds time and time again, or you wouldn't even be alive today. You're a survivor. Don't forget that."

"But what if I wasn't supposed to survive, Thorne?" Macy asked. "What if I survived… and someone else didn't? Someone who should have?"

"Then you go on living. For them. Who died?"

"Noah's mother", Macy replied quietly. "Thorne, she was just a child. Fourteen. I was there. And I couldn't… I couldn't…"

Macy burst into tears. Thorne was silent - his daughter was thirteen.

"But how…?" he finally said, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"I can't… please don't ask, Thorne", Macy pleaded. "I shouldn't have… it's better that you don't know. Believe me. I don't want any of this to touch you. It's too…"

She stopped. There was no way she could explain it to him, she thought. The horrors of that day, the danger that still might be very real. She shouldn't have said anything. She shouldn't have called him at all. And she shouldn't have allowed him to come and see her every day.

"Macy, are you still there?" Thorne's concerned voice asked. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm afraid."

"It'll be all right", Thorne said gently, but he was still obviously shaken. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Macy didn't tell him that that was exactly what she was afraid of.

"Look, Mace", Thorne continued, "you'll get through this. We'll figure out a way to deal with it. You'll see. I'll be over first thing in the morning, and we can take it from there, okay? It will be all right. I promise. Just try and get some rest now. Let it go for tonight. There is nothing you can do at the moment, so try not to drive yourself crazy thinking about this."

"Okay, I'll try", Macy said, making a brave face.

"I'll tell you what", Thorne continued. "I won't hang up, so you can just put your phone down on the table and anytime you feel like talking I'll be right there, okay?"

"Thorne, you don't have to do that", Macy protested. "I don't want to keep you up all night."

"I didn't promise to stay awake", Thorne said. "So if you hear me snoring…"

Macy couldn't help smiling despite all her worries.

"You really mean it?" she said.

"Sure", Thorne insisted. "You've got the hospital paying your telephone bill at the moment, it's their phone, so I say go for it!"

Macy chuckled.

"If that's your philosophy, you must be the dinner party guest from Hell", she said.

"Maybe so", Thorne said. "But I'm a pretty good host, if I may say so myself. And I still make the best chili in town. Someday soon I'll show you, when things have calmed down a bit."

His voice sounded so warm, so reassuring. When things had calmed down… would they ever? It sounded so simple when he said it. Everything would be okay, just like that. And maybe he was right. After all, nothing bad had happened since Macy came to LA. She had been sure that Luigi would come after her, but in fact, he hadn't. Could she be making too much out of it all? Could it be that she actually had escaped him, that he didn't know where to look for her? Were her fears if not unfounded, then at least exaggerated? Maybe if she just lay low for a while, things really would calm down on their own. God, she hoped so. Because she couldn't run very far like this, not with the baby. And she couldn't bring herself to leave Noah behind without knowing for sure that he would be taken care of by someone who loved him. He needed a real home, a permanent, stable one. No foster care - that was what Diana had made her promise.

"I wish I could just start over", Macy said, thinking out loud. "I want security, peace and quiet, for myself, for Noah, and for you, too…"

"You can", Thorne said encouragingly. "You will have all those things you wish for. Just promise me something, will you?"

"What?"

"That you will let me help. You don't have to do this on your own. I am here, for as long as you need me. Okay?"

"Okay", Macy said, hesitating a bit.

"Feeling a little better?" Thorne asked.

"Yeah", Macy said. "I think I'm going to have another go at trying to sleep now."

"Good thinking", Thorne said approvingly. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Thorne", Macy said with a smile. "Oh, and by the way…"

"Yes?"

"What you told me the other day about how our marriage ended… well, as bad as it was, I have to hand it to you, it took some guts coming clean about that."

"Macy, I know what I did was unforgivable…"

"No, I didn't mean to bring it up again", Macy continued. "I just wanted to say that even if you were a lousy husband, you are also one heck of a friend."

Thorne and Macy couldn't see each other and they were in different parts of the city, but they could both sense that the other was smiling in the dark. Friendship.

Yes, that was a good thing.


	21. Chapter XXI: Starting Over

**Chapter XXI: Starting Over**

Thomas looked at everyone who was seated around the table in his office. He had their full attention - Steffy, Caroline, Amber, Marcus, even Pam (what was she doing there anyway? Oh well…). It was time for Forrester Creations to bounce back, and he had finally come up with the way to do it.

"So, you say you have an idea?" Steffy said. "Let's hear it!"

Thomas stood up.

"Picture this", he said with a grand gesture. "A glamorous fashion gala, featuring the three hottest young designers in LA, each showing their best work. Thomas Forrester, Caroline Spencer and Ambrosia Moore. All three of us working together for charity, for a good cause."

"Sounds great", Marcus said. "What cause did you have in mind?"

Thomas nodded towards Caroline and smiled.

"Caroline's foundation", he said. "We will arrange this gala to benefit cancer research. A percentage of the profit from our sales will go to the foundation, and we can auction off original designs for charity as well. The press will be invited, of course, and all our buyers and distributors from overseas. It will be the event of the season!"

"Thomas, that would be amazing!" Caroline exclaimed.

"It's a good idea", Steffy said. "But can we really afford it? I mean, the sales figures for our last collection weren't all that great, due to lack of publicity. Our next collection has to bring in a lot of money, or we're in big trouble. And it seems to me that the press is more interested in Grandpa's new company right now. They don't seem all that interested in what we are doing at the moment. I don't mean to discourage you or anything, I'm just trying to be realistic."

"So we have to create some buzz!" Amber suggested. "Intrigue them, shock them, make them take notice of us!"

"Exactly!" Thomas said with an enigmatic smile. "That is precisely what we will do!"

"But how?" Marcus asked.

"If E F Couture is getting all that attention from the press, then I say we use that publicity to our own advantage!" Thomas said, triumphantly. "We will invite them to share this event with us, get all the media there, and beat them on the runway! The only way we can prove ourselves to Dad and Granddad, and to the entire world, is if we get our designs and theirs up there side by side, and everyone can judge for themselves which is the leading fashion house in LA. They'll come to see Eric and Ridge Forrester, but they'll leave talking about us!"

"Um, yeah", Amber added, "but isn't there a catch to this plan? In order for it to work, we actually have to be better than them. Or at least on the same level. Otherwise, we are finished."

"We would be putting all our eggs in one basket", Steffy agreed. "Either we succeed or we may be out of business. Our entire artistic credibility is at stake here."

"Don't you think we can do it?" Caroline asked, raising an eyebrow. This challenge had awakened her competitive instincts.

"My point exactly", Thomas said. "I think we can pull it off. I say let's show them what we're made of! What do you guys think?"

"I'm game!" Caroline said.

"Me too", Marcus added. "Let's do it!"

"Yeah!" Amber agreed. "Heck, why not?"

"Where would this gala take place?" Steffy asked. "The showroom at Forrester is not big enough. We'd have to find somewhere else."

"I'm thinking some other kind of venue", Thomas said. "Something more glamorous. Something that connects to this company's illustrious history. Something like… The Queen Mary."

"I read about that!" Caroline said. "Forrester Creations and Spectra Fashions had a huge showing there, right on the deck, way back in the 80s. It generated a lot of publicity."

"Should we really repeat that, though?" Amber objected. "Isn't the point that we should break new ground, do our own thing?"

"We can still do that", Thomas said enthusiastically. "By taking something from the past as a point of departure, and turning it into something entirely new! This time around, we will turn that beautiful old ship into the setting for a great party, but like we do it in the 21st century! There will be fashion, yes, but also music, food an beverages, dancing through the night. We are going to rock that boat!"

"I like it!" Marcus exclaimed.

"Now, since you're talking about food…" Pam began, after having listened quietly up to this point. "I think I have a few tiny suggestions there…"

"No lemon bars!" the others cried out in unison.

Pam was hurt. So hurt, in fact, that she briefly considered defecting to E F Couture, until she realized that over there, she would have to share a desk with Donna again. Anything but that, she thought. Maybe she could bring up the issue of the lemon bars with Thomas at a later date. It was early days.

So far, everyone but Steffy had expressed their enthusiasm for the idea. She couldn't deny that it sounded appealing, but if nobody else thought about the financial reality of the situation, she had to. This was a gamble. What Thomas suggested would cost a fortune to arrange, and even more in lost profits since a lot of what they gained would go to charity. On the other hand, it could provide them with a great deal of good publicity, if done well. If they were going to go through with this, they had to do it well - no, better than that. It would have to be spectacular!

"I think we can do this", Steffy finally said. "But we are going to have to work our butts off, you do realize that, don't you?"

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Good", Steffy said. "If everyone is up for the challenge, so am I! Let's do it!"

* * *

As Taylor stepped out of the elevator at E F Couture, she nearly bumped into Thorne who was just getting in, apparently leaving early today. They hadn't seen each other in quite some time, and at first, they didn't quite know how to speak to each other. Thorne gave Taylor a friendly nod and a smile.

"Hello, Thorne", Taylor said. "It's been a while. I hope everything's all right with you - I heard you haven't been coming in to work very much lately…"

Taylor bit her lip. It was true that she had heard that. But she had learnt it from talking to Ridge, a fact that Thorne was sure to understand. Besides, why Thorne decided to skip work these days was none of her business anymore.

"I'm sorry", Taylor apologized, "I didn't mean to pry…"

"No, it's all right", Thorne said, shrugging it off quickly and apparently not taking any offense at the question. "I've just had a lot of other things on my mind. My life has taken a very unexpected turn these past few weeks. You'll have to excuse me now, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. We'll have to catch up some other time - you take care, okay?"

With those words, Thorne got in the elevator. As the doors closed, he waved happily at Taylor and then looked away absentmindedly, a childish grin on his face. Taylor was left standing in the corridor wondering what all that had been about. There had been something almost giddy in his demeanor, a strange excitement that could only mean… but it was impossible! Was Thorne seeing someone? He had looked almost as if he was a high school boy on his way to his first date.

And strangely, that was the same way that Taylor felt as she knocked on Ridge's office door. When she got no reply, she opened the door cautiously and stuck her head in the doorway. Ridge was at his desk, deep in concentration. He was busy sketching a new design and hadn't noticed Taylor's knock. But now, sensing that he was no longer alone, he looked up.

"Hey, Doc!" he said. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was passing by on my way to a patient and I thought I might just drop in to say hello", Taylor said with a smile. "I hope you don't mind, I can see you are busy."

"Never too busy for you!" Ridge replied chivalrously. "Come in!"

"Also", Taylor said as she entered, "I just happened to stop by this coffee shop to grab something to eat, and I found they had your favorite bagels, so here you go!"

She put a bag on Ridge's desk. He smiled at her.

"You are something else, Doc", he said appreciatively. "How did you guess I forgot to get something to eat today?"

"Psychological insight", Taylor joked. "I knew you had a lot of work to do, so I made the deduction, based on my profound knowledge of the human psyche in general and yours in particular, that you might have skipped lunch."

"Ooh, I love it when you talk like that!" Ridge joked. "There is something incredibly attractive about an intelligent woman. Especially one who brings food, and is as beautiful as you are."

Taylor felt her heart skip a beat. Even now, she was afraid to allow herself to get her hopes up about her and Ridge, but it did seem like something had changed. They had always been close because of their children, but now, there was something more. It was as if Ridge had started looking at her in a new light. But would it last? How many times had she believed the time had come for her and Ridge, only to be disappointed when he had once again gone back to Brooke? How could she be sure this time would be different? Maybe there really was something about him that had changed after his last breakup with Brooke, but it might be wishful thinking on Taylor's part. If she were to allow herself to fall completely for Ridge again, she would be playing with fire. And she would risk getting burnt. Was it worth the gamble?

"Doc?" Ridge said, frowning. "Where were you just now?"

"Oh, sorry", Taylor said. "I was just lost in thought."

"Happy thoughts, I hope", Ridge said.

"Maybe", Taylor said. "It depends."

"On what?"

Taylor didn't reply. Ridge continued:

"It's okay. I was thinking about something too…"

"What?" Taylor asked.

"Oh, just that little peck we shared recently", Ridge said innocently. "I was just thinking we should do that again sometime. Of course, since we're both very busy people I'll have to check my calendar and you have to check yours… how does right now sound to you?"

"I think I could fit it in", Taylor said, blushing slightly.

"Good", Ridge said with a smile. "Very good."

And he kissed her.

Brooke pulled back from the doorway. Having passed by in the corridor outside, she couldn't help but overhear the last past of Ridge and Taylor's conversation through the open door. She had stopped for a few moments and, unable to tear herself away no matter how painful it was, watched as Ridge leant forward to kiss Taylor - the same way he used to kiss her not too long ago, she thought.

And Ridge would kiss her, Brooke, like that again. Brooke would make sure of it. Ridge was the love of her life, her destiny, her soul mate. How could she have let him slip away so easily? She had practically handed him over to Taylor! Well, that was about to change. When she witnessed that kiss, it awakened something in her. Call it defiance, call it survival instincts, call it determination. Either way, Brooke made a vow to herself then and there.

She would have Ridge back.

* * *

Macy sat on the hospital bed, looking at the papers Dr Meade had just given her. She was being released from the hospital today, and all that was needed was her signature on this paper. Picking up a pen, she started writing on the dotted line. It was the first time in years that she actually wrote her name, her real name, she reflected. But even though she couldn't remember writing it before, she noticed how easily and naturally the pen moved in her hand, how she seemed to form the correct letters quickly and automatically, without having to make a conscious effort. It was an exhilarating experience.

Grabbing yesterday's newspaper from her bedside table, she wrote her signature again. Then one more time, faster. Yet again, with her eyes closed. It felt right - she knew this signature. Even though she didn't recognize it or remember having written it before.

Dr Meade had tried to explain that to her, the nature of her brain damage and how it affected her memory. She had what he called retrograde amnesia, meaning that she couldn't recall past memories but could still form new ones. Her memory loss affected mainly her recall of facts and personal events, including recognition of people and places, whereas her so-called procedural memory seemed near intact. It was perfectly possible for her to remember things implicitly, even though she couldn't consciously recall them, the doctor had said. He might be right, Macy thought, because when she had listened to the CD Shirley had given her, she had been able to sing along with all of the songs, but still had no recollection of ever recording them or learning them.

The memory was such a complex and frightening thing. Even Dr Meade had admitted that he couldn't explain everything. And the most important question still remained unanswered: Would she ever regain her memory of all those lost years? Macy had asked him specifically about that, and he had been very vague in his answer. It had all amounted to "maybe, maybe not". That was all she had to go on.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Thorne!

"Hi, Macy!" he said cheerfully as he opened the door. "I know I'm a little early, but there was someone who was very eager to see you."

Macy looked up and immediately her heart leapt with joy. Thorne was carrying the sleeping Noah in his arms. The baby was wearing new clothes and he looked well. As she went up to him, he stirred a little and woke up.

"Hi there!", Macy said softly as she picked up the baby. "You have grown since I last saw you. I guess Dayzee has been taking good care of you, huh? And you look so handsome, too!"

"I hope you don't mind that I bought Noah a new outfit", Thorne said, apologetically. "But, you know, he insisted."

"Did he, now?" Macy said, raising an eyebrow. "I had no idea he was so fashion aware."

"Oh yeah", Thorne replied. "He even picked these out for you. Told me he doesn't really think the hospital gown becomes you."

Thorne picked up a few plastic bags he had brought with him and took out some new clothes - a blouse, some tops, a few skirts, a pair of shoes, even underwear. Macy looked at the clothes and then at the man.

"Thorne…" she said, "you shouldn't have…"

"No, no, no", Thorne interrupted. "You promised you would let me help. I'm gonna hold you to that."

"Okay. All right", Macy resigned, smiling. "Thank you. That was very sweet of you."

She went into the bathroom to change. The clothes that Thorne had bought for her were the right size and just her style. Of course they were, she thought. He would know. She observed herself in the bathroom mirror. Something was different. It was not just the new clothes, it was something else. Her face seemed younger, more alive, more healthy. Could a few weeks of sobriety really make this much of a difference?

Returning to Thorne and the baby, she made a small pirouette. Thorne nodded approvingly.

"What's that?" he said, leaning towards the baby. "Noah thinks you look great."

Macy laughed.

"So", Thorne continued. "Shall we go?"

"I don't really know where to go", Macy admitted.

"Why don't you come and stay at my beach house until you figure it out?" Thorne suggested in a casual voice. "I have a spare room."

It was a very convincing casual voice. Thorne had practiced it in the car on his way to the hospital. Because, in reality, he was very nervous. He had no idea how Macy would react to his suggestion. For all he knew, she might think he was overstepping his boundaries and run in the opposite direction. Also, he was a little worried how Alexandria would take this. It was true that she had agreed to the suggestion after thinking it over, but Thorne had had the feeling that she might still not be completely comfortable with the arrangement.

Macy, on the other hand, had her own reasons for being hesitant to accept the suggestion. Part of her had been thrilled at the idea of spending more time with Thorne - he had been so kind to her, and even though she could not remember their past history, she had to admit that she had come to depend on him these past few weeks. He was the only friend she had, the only one she could turn to. When she was with him, her fears seemed so small and unimportant, and he could make her laugh with just one word or a sideways glance.

But there were other things to consider. What if she wasn't out of danger yet - what if Luigi was still looking for her? She could not, she would not put Thorne and his family in harm's way. Maybe it would be for the best if she just left the country, if she tried to get as far away from Luigi and the Boss as possible.

"Thank you", Macy finally replied. "But I can't come with you. I am not staying in LA."

Thorne's heart sank.

"But… why?" he stuttered. "You just said you didn't have anywhere to go. How will you…?"

"It is the way it is going to have to be", Macy said, sadly. "I wish I could explain it to you, but it is safer for you that you don't know the details."

"Safer?" Thorne said, startled by her choice of words. "Are you in danger? Macy!"

"If I am, I would rather face it alone."

"You are not going anywhere alone!" Thorne said firmly. "I won't let you, not in your…"

"In my condition?" Macy filled in, coldly. "You don't think I'll be able to stay off alcohol on my own, do you?"

"Do you?" Thorne retorted. "Are you willing to risk it? You heard what Dr Meade said - if you start drinking again it could kill you!"

"And if I stay here it could kill you, Thorne! You don't understand! There's no telling what these people…"

"What people? You're right, I don't understand. What you are saying doesn't make any sense, Macy. Some dangerous people are after you? Are you sure this isn't just, I don't know, some residual effect of the…?"

"I am not imagining things!" Macy said emphatically.

"I am not saying you are", Thorne replied, trying to calm her down. "But maybe you are a bit on edge because of the withdrawal, and that makes your fears grow out of proportion. Have you had any indication that these 'people' are coming after you?"

"It's probably just one person."

"Well, has this one person been to see you?"

"No."

"Does he know where you are?"

"I don't think so."

"Well then", Thorne reasoned, "you should be safe here. What if I promise you nobody will know you are in my house? If it makes you feel better, I won't even tell my family. The only people who know besides us will be Dayzee and my daughter, and I will swear them to secrecy."

Macy hesitated. Maybe Thorne was right, after all. She was feeling very anxious these days, and part of that might have a simple physical explanation. With every day that passed, the likelihood of Luigi coming after her decreased. He must have realized by now that she wouldn't expose his secrets to the police. She wasn't a threat to him or to his "business" anymore. Maybe he had calmed down, and all she was feeling was the result of her over-active nervous system.

"Do you promise that nobody will find out where I am?" Macy asked. "It's very important, Thorne."

"You have my word", Thorne promised. "You can stay incognito for as long as you like."

Macy smiled.

"You think I'm being paranoid, don't you?" she said.

"No", Thorne answered. "Well, maybe just a little."

Thorne smiled back at her. He was glad that he had managed to calm her down a little. But he recognized the symptoms - Macy had been like this the first time she stopped drinking, too. Anxious, on edge, frightened by the smallest thing, blowing her worries out of proportion… He had no doubt that there was a grain of truth to what she had said, and that she probably had come across some unpleasant or possibly even criminal types before arriving in LA. But the idea that they would be following her around, waiting to pounce, seemed just a little too fantastic. A few weeks from now, the anxiety would start to subside and with some luck, Macy would be returning to her old self.

During the drive to the beach house, Thorne made a point of showing Macy all the sights and scenic locations they passed on the way. Macy was delighted. Even though she was born and raised in LA, today it was as if she was seeing everything for the first time. The air was still as hot as the day she had arrived in Shirley's car, but dark clouds were towering on the horizon and it seemed like a thunderstorm was on its way.

Sure enough, just as Thorne parked the car on the driveway the rain started pouring down. Thorne and Macy ran to the front door and managed to open it fairly quickly, but it only took a few seconds for both of them, and the baby, to be soaked to the skin. Moments later, they were standing inside the beach house in a pool of water. Alexandria, who had been waiting for them, rose from the couch.

"You swam all the way from Cedars?" she asked with a grin.

"No, just from the driveway", Thorne replied.

"Well, that's what you get for filling up the entire garage with all the junk from the spare room", Alexandria observed. "Which is all yours now, by the way", she continued, turning towards Macy.

"Thank you", Macy replied. "You must be Alexandria. I'm Macy."

"I know", Alexandria said. "We already met. At Dayzee's, right before you got ill."

"Oh", Macy said, a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't really remember that day very clearly. I was a bit out of it…"

There was a brief awkward silence.

"I'm going to get some towels", Thorne said and left for the bathroom.

"I've heard a lot about you", Macy began, turning to Alexandria.

Alexandria threw a suspicious look in the direction where Thorne had disappeared.

"Only good things", Macy hurried to add. "Your father is very proud of you."

"I've heard a lot about you, too", Alexandria said. "Ever since I was little. I was actually named after you. Did you know that?"

Macy shook her head, touched. She had not known that.

Thorne returned with a pile of towels. First, Macy made sure that Noah was dry, and then, while Thorne and Macy were busy trying to dry their own wet clothes and hair, Alexandria held Noah, amazed at how tiny he was. The baby woke up and started crying, but Alexandria started humming softly to him and he immediately calmed down.

"He likes it when you sing to him", Macy said with a smile. "Could you hold him just a little longer, please? I think I have to go and change into something dry."

"No problem", Alexandria replied.

When Macy had gone to her room, Thorne looked at his daughter anxiously.

"Ally, are you okay with this?" he asked. "Macy staying here, I mean?"

"Sure", Alexandria replied with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you didn't seem completely comfortable with it earlier when we spoke", Thorne said. "I just wanted to make sure…"

"It's fine", Alexandria said. "Besides, it's just for a few days, right?"

Thorne didn't answer immediately. The truth was, he had no idea how long Macy would be staying.

"Shouldn't you go get changed too?" Alexandria suddenly asked.

It was her way of changing the subject, Thorne realized. But she was right.

A while later, Macy came back downstairs and took Noah in her arms. The heavy rain had been followed by a strong thunderstorm, and there were constant flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder. The sounds made the baby uneasy, and Macy did her best to keep him calm by walking back and forth in the living room and singing to him while rocking him gently. Thorne, who had also changed into dry clothes by now, watched their every movement from a corner of the room with a strange melancholy expression on his face. Alexandria noticed it from where she was sitting in the couch, trying to read her book. She had never seen him look like that before - what did it mean? How could it be that lately, she was discovering new things about her father all the time, even though she had thought she knew him better than anyone?

Macy went to the French windows looking onto the deck and the beach. Darkness had already started to fall, due to the thunderstorm, and she had to strain her eyes to see the ocean. How beautiful it looked! She didn't realize until now how much she had missed living near the sea. Tomorrow, when the weather was better, she would love to go for a walk on the beach…

Suddenly, there was a sharp flash of lightning. It seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby, but strangely, it was not followed by any thunder. Momentarily blinded by the light, Macy thought she could see a figure moving outside the window, but was unable to tell for sure. She turned cold. What did it mean?

"Thorne, did you see that?" she asked anxiously, turning towards him.

"What?" Thorne asked.

"The flash", Macy said with an unsteady voice. "It looked like a camera flash. And I could have sworn there was someone out on the deck."

Thorne joined her at the window and looked out.

"There is nobody there", he said reassuringly. "It was probably just the lightning."

But Macy was silent and preoccupied. Was Thorne right? Probably. God, she couldn't keep driving herself mad like this! She had to keep it together. Starting to sing to Noah again, she stepped away from the window, but couldn't help throwing furtive glances in the direction of the deck long afterwards.

"Dad", Alexandria whispered to her father as he sat down in the couch next to her, "I thought you said Macy was levelheaded."

"She usually is", Thorne whispered back. "But right now, she… she is going through a rough time. Be nice to her, okay?"

"I'm nice", Alexandria said with an innocent smile.

Meanwhile, the young reporter ran through the rain towards the car he had parked a bit further down the road. So the anonymous tip from the hospital had been true, after all! That Forrester family never ceased to be a source of drama and sensational gossip. If it wasn't love triangles, aborted weddings, corporate intrigue or paternity tests, it was people returning from the dead. This time, rumor had had it that Thorne Forrester's ex-wife, the singer Macy Alexander, had unexpectedly come back to the land of the living. And he would be the very first to report the news!

This scoop might even get him a bonus next month, the reporter thought happily.


	22. Chapter XXII: The Scoop

**Chapter XXII: The Scoop**

At the bar in the seedy nightclub, Luigi put down the newspaper he had been reading and opened a bottle of beer. So Barbie had finally slipped! After weeks of managing to virtually disappear off the face of the Earth, she had at last had the courtesy to allow her face to be displayed in one of the major newspapers for all to see. And as if that wasn't enough, whoever wrote the article had had the good taste to be very specific as to where the photo had been taken - "Ms Alexander was seen at former husband Thorne Forrester's beach house". That's right, Alexander had been the name of the old man they had been instructed to silence that day a few years ago - Luigi had almost forgotten. He had just been another troublesome face and hardly even that.

There had only been two of them - the Boss and himself. It was the Boss who had tracked down Adam Alexander and explained the situation to Luigi. Alexander had done business with the organization several decades ago, but ended up betraying them to the police. In order to state an example, they had made sure he would eventually pay his debt, even though it had taken many years to find him. The old man had been very clever, presumably moving from place to place under assumed names, but two years ago, they had finally found him in a small town in the north, where there was a private neurology clinic which he visited daily. Regular habits. There was nothing more fatal for a person on the run. That was why it had been so easy.

Luigi and the Boss had disguised themselves as doctors and managed to enter the hospital room without anybody taking notice of them. Alexander had been there, as they knew he would be, by his comatose daughter's bedside. He had barely had time to react as the Boss took out the silenced gun and fired a bullet into the center of his forehead. Then, the Boss had aimed the weapon at the woman in the bed. But Luigi had stopped him. There had been something about her that had touched him - that peaceful expression on her face as she seemed to be in a deep sleep, that close resemblance to his cousin Barbara. Against all reason, Luigi had convinced the Boss to spare the woman and instead, they had smuggled her out of the clinic in a stolen ambulance. The Boss had hated the idea from the start, realizing the extreme inconvenience of suddenly having an unconscious woman on their hands, but Luigi had seen only the "Sleeping Beauty" he had suddenly and unwisely fallen head over heels in love with. She had become Barbie then and there, and ever since, she had been his.

Until now. Looking at the picture in the newspaper, he realized that his Barbara no longer existed. She was back where she had come from, reclaiming her own name, and her own life. Luigi had lost his hold on her, and with that, he had lost what was left of his desire to protect her. The Boss had been right all along. They should have killed her immediately. But with some luck, it wouldn't be too late to correct that mistake.

"Pearl", Luigi called out to the waitress who had arrived early, "I am going out of town for a few days. Tell Bob to run the business for me while I'm gone."

Pearl threw him an uninterested look and nodded.

Luigi went upstairs to his room and packed a few necessary items. Most items weren't necessary, he thought. Some money and a good revolver could get you far. They could get you everything else you might need.

It was a pity, he thought as he left the nightclub. He had truly loved Barbara Brown.

Macy Alexander, on the other hand, was just another target.

* * *

E F Couture was bustling with activity. Ever since Forrester Creations had challenged them to a fashion showdown on the Queen Mary, and E F Couture had accepted, everybody had started working on a new line with great enthusiasm. And now that the gala had been announced to the press, the phones had been ringing off the hook. Eric had spent days answering questions over the phone from the likes of Jarrett. Whose idea was this charity gala? Could it be seen as a competition between the "old" Forrester generation and the "young" one? Was Eric confident that he was still the king of LA fashion or did he fear he would be dethroned by his grandchildren? How did he feel about donating so much of the profits to cancer research - had his wife's death been a factor in that decision?

"Sometimes I swear", Eric said, hanging up the phone for the fifth time this past hour, "these reporters just don't know the boundaries between the professional and the personal!"

"So, it's been one of those interviews", Brooke said sympathetically from the corner where she was sitting looking at some of Eric's latest designs. "I guess it goes with living your life in the spotlight. Nothing's off limits anymore. Marriages, divorces, deaths - they want to write about it. You're fair game. You just have to live with it, I guess, and tame the press."

"You're right, you're right", Eric said, nodding. "Sometimes I just…"

"I know", Brooke said. "Sometimes the wound is too fresh, too deep."

"Are we still talking about Stephanie, or about you and Ridge?" Eric asked.

"I'm not comparing your loss to mine", Brooke said quickly. "Stephanie's death has left a void in this family that can never be filled. Ridge and me, well, that's a completely different matter. He left me because he wanted to. It was his decision. But I'm not so sure it's final. Anything could happen."

Eric raised his eyebrows.

"I'm kind of surprised to hear you talking like this, Brooke", he said. "I was under the impression that you had given up on my son."

"I thought so, too", Brooke admitted. "But then I realized that a love like the one Ridge and I shared - no, share - is something so rare, and when you find it, you have to fight for it. So that's what I intend to do."

"In that case, you might get some competition", Eric pointed out. "Ridge and Taylor have been seeing a lot of each other lately."

"I know", Brooke said. "But I'm used to that. It's nothing I can't handle."

There was a knock on the door and Donna entered.

"Excuse me, Eric, everyone is here for the board meeting", she said.

She motioned towards the people who had just arrived and started taking their places in the room. Ridge was there, as were Rick and Hope. And Thorne, surprisingly - he had tended to spend as little time as possible at work lately. Donna let him enter and followed him into the room, taking out her notepad as she did so. Eric looked around.

"Shall we begin?" he said. "We have a lot of planning to do regarding our next fashion show."

That very moment, the phone rang. Donna picked it up.

"E F Couture", she said. "Yes, hello. I see. What do you want me to comment on? No, we've been really busy, I don't think any of us have had time to read… why? Who is? I'm sorry, what did you say? I have no… Just a moment!"

Donna covered the mouthpiece of the phone and threw Thorne a confused look.

"It's Jarrett from Eye on Fashion", she said. "He wonders if we can confirm whether or not Thorne has a dead ex-wife in his house, like it says in the newspaper."

All eyes in the room turned towards Thorne. He looked from one to the other of them. The cat was out of the bag now, there was no point on trying to keep it a secret anymore.

"Well, technically, she's not dead", Thorne said with a humorous smirk.

"Thorne?" Eric said. "What in the world are you talking about? And for God's sake, Donna, hang up the phone! Tell Jarrett we have no comments."

Donna repeated the words into the phone obediently and ended the conversation. But it was obvious nobody in the room was ready to drop the subject.

"Yeah, Thorne", Rick said. "Do you want to tell us what that was all about?"

"Okay", Thorne began, taking a deep breath. "You're gonna have to suspend disbelief a bit for this one. It's really the most miraculous thing. But I swear it's the truth, it has even been confirmed by police records and…"

"What exactly has been confirmed?" Brooke asked. "We don't follow you."

"Well, to make a long story short, a couple of weeks ago, I found out Macy is alive. She was in the hospital, and when she was released the other day, she had nowhere to go, so I offered to let her stay above my garage", Thorne explained. "That's pretty much it."

There was a long silence.

"Sounds to me that's quite a lot", Donna finally commented. "Wow…"

"How is that even possible?" Rick asked. "I thought she was taken off life support years ago."

"Apparently, she wasn't", Thorne said. "I don't know exactly how it happened, but she's alive, she's here!"

"Son, that's amazing news!" Eric exclaimed. "How is she? Is she... I mean, you said she was in the hospital?"

"She's all right", Thorne said quickly. "But she has amnesia. She can't remember anything, or anyone, before the chandelier incident."

"How convenient", Brooke murmured. Then she said, aloud: "But where has she been all this time? Hiding in Italy again?"

"I don't know", Thorne admitted defensively. "Macy hasn't been very specific about that."

"Isn't that a bit strange?" Brooke asked. "I mean, why would she…"

"Look", Thorne interrupted sharply, "I'm sure she has her reasons, okay? She's going through a lot right now."

"So she's drinking again?" Brooke deduced.

"That's enough!" Thorne snapped. "I won't sit here and have you questioning me like that about my wi…"

Thorne stopped dead in the middle of the word. There was an awkward silence.

"So, little brother", Ridge joked in order to lighten the mood, "how long did you plan on keeping Macy locked up in your spare room without telling us, huh?"

"Not for long", Thorne answered evasively. "Macy is a little publicity shy at the moment."

Brooke looked at him suspiciously. Publicity shy? If she had had a fleeting thought before that something weird was going on, she was sure of it now. The Macy she remembered (none too fondly, due to their frequent confrontations) was not, and had never been, publicity shy. If anything, she thrived in the spotlight - she was a performer, for crying out loud! No, there had to be more to this story than met the eye. At this point, Brooke was mildly annoyed rather than sincerely worried. But later events would give her reason to remember that feeling of unease and wish that she had taken it more seriously.

"Well, we are not the ones that need to be told", Eric pointed out. "My God, what about Sally and CJ? Did you contact them?"

"Not yet", Thorne said. "But it needs to be done. They shouldn't have to find out about something like this by reading about it in the paper."

"What about…" Eric threw a worried glance at Brooke and Hope before continuing. "What about Deacon Sharpe? If he is still her husband, that is."

Hope's mouth dropped open. Deacon Sharpe? Her father, Deacon Sharpe? How did he enter into all this? Brooke looked at her daughter, trying to read her reaction, and then looked at Thorne with a steady, meaningful gaze.

"That is one can of worms I think is better left unopened", she said firmly. "That man has done enough damage as it is."

Brooke glanced at Ridge, who turned away. If he was still upset about that stupid text message, Deacon coming to town would sabotage whatever chance she had of winning him back now. That man had been nothing but trouble from the start. And given the chance, he would continue to stir up trouble.

"When I last spoke to Macy about it she was reluctant to letting anybody at all know where she is", Thorne said. "Now that the word is out anyway, I guess it's her decision to make."

"Oh, great", Brooke said, throwing her hands up in a gesture of exasperation. "It's Macy's call. So if she feels like wreaking havoc with all of our lives, she can. And most probably, she will. It's not like she ever passed up an opportunity to do it before."

"Brooke, come on, don't you think you're being a little too dramatic?" Eric asked. "This is Macy we're talking about. Not Sheila Carter."

Brooke raised her eyebrows but didn't answer.

"Shouldn't we get back to the meeting?" Rick asked. "I mean, that is why we're here, isn't it?"

Eric nodded. He was just about to start with the first part of the agenda, when Thorne's cell phone rang. There were several annoyed sighs - at this rate, the meeting would drag on for hours. Seeing that it was Alexandria, Thorne excused himself and left the room.

"Hi, sweetie, what's the matter?" Thorne asked.

"Um, Dad, I'm at home and it's kind of crazy here", Alexandria explained. "There's this bunch of reporters outside. I told them to leave but they won't."

"Okay, Ally", Thorne said, "how many are they?"

"I don't know, not that many", Alexandria said. "But they're sort of annoying because I was going to go swimming and now I feel like I can't even open the door without them trying to pry their way into the house. I think Macy's really bothered by them, though. She's locked herself in her room and won't come out."

"Listen, you just stay put, all right?" Thorne said. "I'm on my way."

Hanging up, Thorne went back to the office.

"I have to go", he explained. "There's something I need to take care of at home."

"What a surprise", Donna commented.

"It's all right, son", Eric said with a sympathetic nod. "You go and do what you have to do."

Smiling at his father, Thorne hurriedly left the office.

* * *

Macy sat on the bed in the room Thorne had put in order for her. The baby was sleeping soundly in his cradle beside her, but even that peaceful sight couldn't calm her down now. She could hear voices from outside, some of them speaking her name, but she was too afraid to even go to the window and look out. How did this happen? She had been so careful, or so she had thought. And yet, they had found her. The news was out. It was only a matter of time before Luigi knew where she was. Would he come after her?

There was a knock on the door.

"Macy, how are you doing in there?" Thorne's concerned voice said.

"Thorne", Macy replied nervously. "I thought you were at work."

"I left early", Thorne explained. "Ally called and told me about the reporters. May I come in?"

Hesitantly, Macy rose and opened the door, letting Thorne enter.

"A bit overwhelming, isn't it?" he asked. "There was a picture in the newspaper this morning, and now suddenly everyone wants to hear the full story."

"I just don't see how…" Macy began. "Who could have told them?"

Thorne shook his head.

"I don't know", he said. "There's really no point in speculating. The fact is, the cat is out of the bag. All we can do now is find a way to deal with it. The reporters are out there, they want to see you. So, do you want me to send them away or should we go down and meet them?"

"Meet them?" Macy repeated with horror.

"Well, there was a time when you used to enjoy the attention", Thorne said, smiling. "Back when we were touring and recording our debut album, you had the press eating out of your hand. I'm not trying to push you into anything you don't want to do, Macy. It's just that I know how these reporters work. Give them what they want, and they go away, and in a few days, this will be old news. Shut the door in their faces, and they'll just be back tomorrow, and the day after. They already know you're here anyway."

"I just don't understand why they care so much", Macy said. "It's been years since I released an album. I don't even remember doing it. I'm not a public figure anymore. How come they even still know who I am?"

"Well, that ought to tell you something", Thorne replied. "People know a good thing when they see it. And they don't forget so easily."

Macy was quiet for a moment. She looked at Thorne and then at the sleeping baby.

"I should leave", she finally said. "It's too risky for me to stay now."

"You keep saying that", Thorne said, "but you never explain why!"

"Thorne, I've told you…" Macy began.

"I know, I know", Thorne interrupted. "It's safer for me that I don't know. Well, you know what? I'm in this with you now. Whether you like it or not, I'm here for you, okay? And what kind of a friend would I be if I left you alone, especially if you're really in danger?"

Macy sighed. There was nothing she could say or do to change his mind. He had no idea of the gravity of the situation. How could he, when he didn't have all the facts? Maybe she should tell him, after all… but no. He would go straight to the police and ask for protection. And contacting the authorities was a mortal sin in Luigi's books. There would be no mercy if they crossed that line - it was against the honor code of the organization, an offense punishable by death. All she could do now was hope for the best. It was quite possible that even if she left, Thorne would still be in danger. After all, she had been seen at his house. It would only be a natural assumption that if anyone wanted to find her, that would be the first place they would look. And if she was not there, they might well believe that Thorne was the one hiding her. No, there really was no undoing this damage.

There was a sudden knock on the window. Thorne and Macy both started and turned their heads. Jarrett was looking at them through the glass.

"I don't believe this!" Thorne exclaimed angrily. "Where did he get a ladder?"

He walked up to the window and opened it.

"Jarrett", he said, "this is really beneath you! That you would stoop this low… I thought we already told you we had no comments!"

"I'm sorry", Jarrett said, "but I just had to get your attention somehow. I couldn't help but notice the crowd outside and I thought to myself it must be really a nuisance to you. But you know, if they were to find out that Eye on Fashion got an exclusive in-depth interview, I'm quite sure they would admit defeat and go home."

"Well, I'll be…" Thorne began, getting ready to shut the window in the reporter's face.

But Macy interrupted him. Sometime during this short conversation, she had realized that she could not run from the press forever. She could not stay in this room indefinitely, and it wouldn't do any good anyway, now that she had already been seen there. So, since there was no way to hide from the publicity, the second best option was trying to control it.

"Mr Jarrett?" she inquired amiably, coming towards him with an outstretched hand. "I'm Macy. Why don't you step inside?"

Jarrett grabbed her hand and pulled himself into the room through the window. Before he shut it behind him, he turned and looked down triumphantly at the other reporters below.

"It's nice to meet you", Macy said, slipping into the role of a public figure and feeling surprised at how that persona seemed to fit like an old comfortable glove. "Now, what would you like to know?"

* * *

If Sheila Carter had been anyone but Sheila Carter, she would have given up by now. She had lost count of how many places she had visited, and how many people she had showed that picture of Diana she had cut from the newspaper. Tonight, she had finally ended up in a nightclub. It was not likely she would find her daughter there, but she was nothing if not thorough.

Sitting down at the bar, she ordered a glass of wine, then showed the picture to the bartender.

"Excuse me", she said with that smile she knew usually helped her get what she wanted, "I am looking for this girl, have you seen her?"

The bartender hesitated - only for a fraction of a second, but long enough for a sharp mind like Sheila's to notice.

"No, can't say I recognize her", he said, then turned his back on her rather too abruptly.

A scantily dressed waitress, or whatever her job description was, approached, carrying a tray with empty glasses. Sheila asked her the same question. The waitress was visibly shaken.

"I don't know", she said, her voice unsteady, "why do you ask?"

"Because this girl is my daughter", Sheila said. "I haven't seen her in years, and I really want to find her."

The waitress stared at Sheila for quite a while, with a strange expression in her eyes. Then she looked around anxiously and lowered her voice, so that the bartender could no longer hear her.

"Come with me", she said.

The waitress lead Sheila out of the room, up a narrow flight of stairs, through a dark corridor and into a small room where there was not much more than a bed. She sat down on it and invited Sheila to do the same.

"I'm Pearl", she said. "This is my… this is where I work."

Sheila only nodded. She couldn't care less where Pearl worked or what she did for a living.

"You said the girl in the picture was your daughter?" Pearl continued. "Are you sure?"

"Yes", Sheila said. "She is fourteen years old. Her name is Diana."

"I… I know", Pearl said in what was almost just a whisper. "She used to work here."

Sheila could feel every muscle in her body tensing. Her daughter, here? In this… this filthy place? Doing what? No, it didn't even bear thinking about! What monster would allow a child, her beautiful daughter, to even set foot in a place like this?

"When?" Sheila said, blankly.

"Until about a month ago", Pearl said. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, my boss wouldn't like it one bit…"

"Oh, you will tell me", Sheila said with forced calm. "Go on."

"Like I said", Pearl continued, "Diana worked here, you know, looking after our… male customers. She came around Christmas. Called herself Laura. Then a while later we discovered she was pregnant. Luigi, that's my boss, was furious, because she could no longer work in that condition and she wouldn't get rid of it. But Barbie persuaded Luigi to let her stay so she would at least have a roof over her head."

"Barbie? Who's that?" Sheila asked.

"Barbara. She was Luigi's… well, sort of girlfriend. She lived here with him, and she used to sing with the band. That was before it got… well, before…"

"Before what?" Sheila said, sharply.

"Luigi and Barbie got in an argument", Pearl said. "I'm not sure what it was about, but it was bad. And about the same time, Diana got into labor. But Luigi was so angry he locked both of them up in his room and wouldn't let them out, and wouldn't let any of us get a doctor or make any contact with them. We were all afraid, he gets really nasty when he's angry. But it was… it was… I just wish… if I had only known…"

Pearl couldn't go on. She turned away, tears in her eyes. If she had only known… if she had only shown a little more courage that day, the mother who was sitting in the room with her now might still have her child.

Sheila was quiet. She could feel an unspeakable horror rising inside her, combined with an uncontrollable rage.

"Tell me what happened!" she demanded furiously. "Tell me right now!"

"There were… God, I'm so sorry… there were complications."

"What complications?"

"I'm not quite sure", Pearl whispered. "But Diana, she… she… didn't make it."

The words echoed in Sheila's mind. What was the waitress saying? What didn't Diana make? Did that stupid cheap prostitute have the nerve to tell her…"

"Is my daughter dead?" Sheila snarled, grabbing Pearl by the throat. "Is that what you're saying?"

Pearl stared at the woman, shocked by her aggressive reaction. Unable to speak, she just nodded. Sheila let go of the other woman, but her whole body was shaking with grief and rage.

"She lay here dying", Sheila said in a low, menacing tone, "and none of you tried to stop it. You all let her die!"

"I'm so sorry", Pearl repeated. "We didn't know it was that serious. And Luigi wouldn't let us…"

"Where is he?" Sheila asked. "Where is the bastard who did this to my child? The scum who turned her into a whore and then left he to die?"

"He is out of town", Pearl said, slightly relieved that the other woman's rage now seemed to have shifted focus away from her.

"Where?" Sheila said coldly.

Pearl hesitated. Should she tell the woman what she suspected? This could get very ugly - there was something unsettling about the smoldering intensity of this lady's fury. Of course, it was normal for any mother to be desperate at hearing about the death of a child, and wanting to punish find the person responsible, but this went deeper. Nevertheless, Pearl told herself, this woman deserved to know. It was her daughter, and her grandchild.

"I'm not sure", Pearl said, "but I think he went after Barbie. She left with the baby, just after Diana… just after it happened, and he was furious that she took off. She seemed to have just disappeared. Then, today, he just decided to leave after reading the morning paper, and when I looked through it, there was this picture of Barbie and the baby and this caption that she was really someone else…"

"Wait!" Sheila said. "This Barbie person has the baby? Diana's baby? Who is she? What does she look like? Where is she?"

Pearl looked around. She had brought the newspaper up to the room earlier that day, to read that article through. There it was, on the floor by the bed. She picked it up and handed it to Sheila.

The picture in the paper showed a small middle-aged woman with brown hair carrying a small child. It was obviously a snapshot taken through a window. But Sheila recognized the woman, as well as the man who could be vaguely discerned in the background. And sure enough, the article confirmed that the woman in the picture was Thorne Forrester's ex-wife Macy Alexander, who had been believed to be dead for many years and who had apparently suddenly resurfaced at Thorne's house.

So this was "Barbie"! And Sheila's grandchild was with her, staying with the Forresters! The Forresters again - how much more would they take from her? They had taken Mary away from her, then they had turned her against her. When Diana was born, they had refused to acknowledge her as one of their own and they had made sure Sheila was caught and had to give her young daughter up. And what had happened? Diana had ended up in foster care, abused by her foster father, pulled into prostitution by a man named Luigi, and finally died in a nightclub, far away from her mother. Now they were about to take yet another child from Sheila. Well, she wouldn't let that happen! She would make sure they got what was coming to them - every single one of the people who had hurt her and her loved ones. The Forresters would pay, and so would Luigi. And nobody would keep her away from her grandchild. Nobody!

"I have to leave", Sheila said abruptly, rising from the bed and leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Pearl drew a sigh of relief. There had been something absolutely terrifying about that woman.

"My daughter is dead", Sheila mumbled to herself as she left the nightclub, still trying to process this information. "My sweet Diana. And I didn't even get to see her."

Suddenly, the reality of it all hit her and she had to lean against a street light to keep her balance. Bitter tears burnt behind her eyelids, but she would not allow herself to cry. Not now. Not until she had settled the score. Diana would have justice. They both would.

"It's a life for a life", Sheila said under her breath. "You killed my daughter - now it's time for you to pay the price. You will all suffer the way you made her suffer."

And she burst out laughing.


	23. Chapter XXIII: A Life For A Life

**Chapter XXIII: A Life For A Life**

Alexandria sat in her favorite corner of the living room couch, flipping through the pages of the latest issue of Eye on Fashion. There was a quite long interview with Macy in it, written by Jarrett, of course. Thorne had described very vividly to Alexandria how the reporter had literally climbed through the window of the spare room to get that interview, so she guessed he had earned the right to write it, after all. The good part of it was that once that article was published, the other reporters had given up and left them alone. Alexandria could go swimming again without having to worry about being followed around by the press.

Macy, on the other hand, seemed to have reacted to the press finding out she was alive by becoming even more on edge and nervous than she had been before, if that were possible. Ever since she first came to stay with them, Alexandria had noticed that Macy never seemed to sleep more than a few hours at a time. Quite frequently, Alexandria had woken up in the middle of the night and heard sounds from the kitchen. At first, she had thought it was just Noah who needed to be fed, but once or twice when she had got up to check what was going on, she had seen Macy alone in the dark, pacing restlessly from one end of the room to the other, sometimes stopping to look out of the window. And even in broad daylight, Macy would frequently start at the slightest noise.

It was strange, Alexandria thought. Even though Macy had been staying with them for several days now, Alexandria hadn't been able to form very much of an opinion of her. It hadn't been at all like she had expected. She had thought that Macy would come into their life, inserting herself into their home and their family, taking up all of Thorne's attention. Instead, she had kept herself to herself, spending most of her time in her room with the baby, sometimes coming down to feed him or make a sandwich for herself, and exchanging a few friendly words with Alexandria as she did so. It was true that Thorne had been very attentive and considerate towards her, and spent a lot of time upstairs talking to her, but she had never demanded it of him. On the contrary, she had frequently told Thorne that he didn't have to take care of her, and expressed concerns that she might be intruding on their privacy and hospitality, without being able to do anything in return.

Now, Macy was standing out on the deck overlooking the ocean with Noah in her arms, watching the waves crash onto the sand, although Alexandria had the sudden thought that "scanning the beach for intruders" was probably a more apt description. Who was she watching out for? Where had she been all those years that she had been gone, by the way? Everything about Macy was an enigma. Even Thorne had admitted that he didn't know the answers to those questions. Maybe even Macy herself didn't know for sure.

The baby started crying and Macy went inside.

"Oh, hi, Ally", she said absentmindedly. "I didn't see you at first."

"Is Noah hungry?" Alexandria asked.

"I think so", Macy said. "I'm going to warm his bottle."

"Can I hold him?" Alexandria said eagerly, getting up from the couch.

"That would be great!" Macy replied. "Thanks, Ally."

She gave the baby to Alexandria and reached for the formula. As she was preparing it, she started humming a tune. Alexandria looked up.

"Hey, I know that song!" she said.

"What song?" Macy said, surprised. She had not been aware of singing at all.

"The one you were humming just now", Alexandria continued. "Dad used to sing it to me when I was little. _Smile_, I think it's called. It was… it was my Mom's favorite song."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Macy felt a little uneasy. She hadn't meant to upset Alexandria. Besides, there was something in what she had said about that particular song - wasn't that what Luigi had said when he had requested it, the night before Noah was born? The night when she thought that Luigi would…

"It's okay", Alexandria said. "I like it, too. It's just that it's been a long time since I've heard it. I hardly even remember the lyrics anymore. _Smile though your heart is…_"

Alexandria sang the first words of the song with a sweet, musical voice, then stopped abruptly, frowning.

"Is the heart aching or breaking?" she asked. "I can never decide which."

Macy thought for a moment. When trying to figure out the lyrics out of context, she realized she didn't know for sure, either. So she started singing instead, hoping that the words would fall into place automatically:

_Smile though your heart is aching,_

_Smile even though it's breaking._

_When there are clouds in the sky_

_you'll get by…_

Alexandria listened as Macy continued singing the entire song. She had a beautiful voice. Even Noah seemed to pay attention, since he stopped crying. When the song was finished, Macy smiled at Alexandria and the baby.

"Noah's dinner is ready", she said.

"Then we'd better start thinking about our own dinner", Thorne commented from the doorway.

"Dad!" Alexandria exclaimed. "I didn't notice you. How long have you been standing there?"

"I didn't want to interrupt you", Thorne replied, smiling at Macy. "It's been so many years since the last time I heard you singing. For real, I mean."

Macy chuckled. She took Noah's bottle and Alexandria handed over the baby to her. As Macy sat down to feed him, Alexandria watched them thoughtfully for a while.

"Is it true that his mother died giving birth to him?" she asked hesitantly. "Dad told me…"

Looking up at Alexandria, Macy nodded sadly.

"Yes, Ally, that's true. She was… she was very young. And she was all alone. I made a promise to her that I would protect Noah as best I could."

But was it enough? Macy pondered this thought for a while. Sometimes, the enormous responsibility of taking care of a child frightened her. Was it fair to him, she thought, to allow him to be looked after by a recovering alcoholic who was constantly battling her own demons? A person who might or might not be chased by professional criminals? Would she somehow eventually end up failing him, or putting him in danger?

A warm hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

"You're doing great", Thorne's gentle voice said.

He had somehow guessed, or sensed, what was on her mind.

"I'd better put him down for a nap", she said, rising.

"Yeah, but hurry back here, okay!" Thorne called after her. "I need some help in the kitchen. We're having an important guest over for dinner."

"We are?" Alexandria said, her eyes widening. "Who?"

Thorne smirked.

"I'll tell you later. Ally, could you help me with the vegetables?"

"What are we cooking?" she asked.

"My famous chili", Thorne said. "What else?"

"Yeah, what else?" Alexandria replied.

A while later, all three of them were busy in the kitchen. Macy was making a salad, Alexandria kept an eye on the boiling rice, and Thorne was preparing his chili with the passion of a true artist, adding the final spices.

"Dad is extremely proud of his chili", Alexandria explained to Macy. "And it really is that good."

Curiously, Macy took a spoon and approached the chili, which was almost done.

"May I?" she said, then took a spoonful and tasted it gingerly. "Wow, Thorne, that is delicious! I haven't tasted such a good chili since… well, I don't know when!"

"Since the last time I cooked chili for you?" Thorne suggested.

"It does seem familiar, as a matter of fact", Macy agreed. "Is that cinnamon? That really adds a certain something…"

"Ha!" Alexandria exclaimed triumphantly. "So that's the secret ingredient you have been refusing to reveal to me all this time! Dad, you're busted!"

"Great, Macy, way to go", Thorne said with mock annoyance. "You play the amnesia card all this time and then you go and expose my deepest secrets when I least expect it."

"Honey, if I didn't have amnesia, you and I would not be on speaking terms", Macy deadpanned.

Thorne laughed. Macy finally seemed to have begun to relax a bit. She appeared happy and at ease as she prepared the food, and Thorne noted that even though Macy had told him that she didn't remember anything about the time she had spent living in his house before, she knew exactly where to find everything in the kitchen. For a short while, it was as if nothing had changed. Macy was back to her old self, and this was her home. Then, a sudden dark thought seemed to cross her mind, and her face got serious.

"Thorne, who is coming over for dinner?" she asked. "Is it anyone I know? I mean, anyone I… I should know?"

Turning his attention away from the chili for a moment, Thorne looked at Macy. He wondered how she would react to him making this dinner invitation without telling her first…

"Yes, Mace, it is." Thorne took a deep breath, then continued. "You know we've been trying to contact your family, but it proved harder than we thought. Sally is still on some faraway island where she can't be reached. But late last night I finally managed to get hold of your brother CJ. He was in Paris, but as soon as I explained the… the situation to him, he got on the first plane over here. He will be here any minute."

"And he believed you?" Alexandria commented.

"Well, not at first. There had been nothing in the newspapers over there, but then he managed to find something online that proved I was not just making it up."

"My brother?" Macy asked, incredulously. "God. I don't even… does he know that I can't…? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I wanted to surprise you", Thorne said, feeling a little guilty. "But you don't have to worry, I told him about your condition. He doesn't expect you to remember him, so if you don't, he won't be shocked."

"But he might be hurt", Macy said.

The doorbell rang. Alexandria ran to the door and opened it. CJ was standing outside, a suitcase in his hand.

"Uncle CJ!" Alexandria exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck.

"Hey, Ally!" CJ said. "Boy, you've grown since the last time I saw you. How are you, kid?"

Macy heard their voices from where she was standing in the kitchen. She tried to search her memory to see if she could recall ever having heard that man's voice before, but there was nothing there - as usual. She took a few nervous steps forward. Thorne, noticing her discomfort, placed a supportive arm around her shoulders and led her towards the front door.

CJ spotted her immediately. Until that very moment, he had been sceptic, not truly allowing himself to believe the incredible things Thorne had said, and what he had read online. In order to stop himself from getting his hopes up in vain, he had allowed for the possibility that it might all be an unusually cruel and elaborate practical joke. But the woman in front of him looked very real, and very much like his sister. She seemed every bit as nervous as he was. He approached her slowly, almost afraid to blink for fear that she would be gone when he opened his eyes, and when he came close enough, reached out an unsteady hand to touch her. She took it, and he could feel that she was trembling as well.

"CJ…" she said.

The voice was Macy's, too. He observed her face and her arms, trying to find a couple of moles and birthmarks that he remembered from many years ago. They were all there. Nobody could fake that.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for a long time, tears streaming down his face. When he finally let go of her, it was only to get a good look at her.

"Macy…" he said, wiping his eyes. "I can't believe it's really you! This is just… it's unreal."

"CJ", Macy said again, making a desperate effort to find something familiar about her brother's appearance, but failing.

She wanted to be able to hold her little brother in her arms and feel the same joy and love that he was feeling, she wanted to be able to look at him and see him as the little boy whom she had (from what Thorne had related to her) babysat, thrown birthday parties for, helped with his homework, comforted when he was sad, argued with and laughed with. But it was just not there. That look in his eyes, the look of a loving, caring brother, was too much for her to handle. Macy had to look away.

"Macy… Mace, what's wrong?" CJ asked with concern in his voice.

"I'm sorry," Macy said, still unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, CJ. I wish I could…"

Alarmed, CJ looked at Thorne, who shook his head slowly. CJ was devastated by what that simple movement seemed to indicate.

"You don't remember me?" CJ said, hardly able to speak. "Mace, can't you… can't you remember anything? Not even…"

"No, CJ", Macy replied, with tears in her eyes. "I wish to God that I could. I know how much we… how much we must have meant to each other. And I want that back, just as much as you do. But can you… can you be patient with me? I don't know when or if I'll get my memory back, but until then, I want to focus on the present, on building new memories."

CJ nodded, and hugged Macy again.

"I'll do anything for you", he said. "I'm just so glad you are here. I love you so much, Mace."

"I love you too, CJ", Macy replied.

She couldn't feel it yet, but deep down, she knew that it was true.

Dinner was quite pleasant, but somewhat emotional. CJ still hadn't had time to process having his big sister back from the grave, and Macy tried to give him all the attention and affection that she could, even though it sometimes left her feeling like an impostor for not being able to remember their past. Thorne and Alexandria did their best to make the other two feel at ease, and ended up succeeding. There were a lot of laughs, a lot of tears, and a lot of old stories about Sally Spectra.

"Have you talked to Sally lately, by the way?" Thorne asked CJ.

"No", CJ said. "Nobody has, for months. She is on a cruise in some very remote place. There is no point even trying to call her. Every now and then I get a postcard telling me where she has been and what crazy things she's been up to, but delivery is so slow that by the time I get them, she may well be in a different part of the world altogether."

"Sounds just like her", Thorne commented. "I'm sure she's enjoying herself. But it is kind of inconvenient…"

"Yeah, she needs to get in contact with you, Mace", CJ filled in. "And I guess Deacon does, too."

"Yes, we are trying", Macy said, looking down into her chili. It made her uncomfortable to think that she had a husband somewhere whom she didn't remember and who didn't know she was alive.

"We'll have Connor look into the legal aspects", Thorne added. "I mean, we don't even know if the marriage is still valid or not. And then there's that whole aspect of you getting back all your money and possessions."

"You mean so you and Ally won't have to put up with me crashing here anymore?" Macy asked.

"Exactly", Thorne said with a smile.

There was a sound from the baby monitor.

"I'll go check on Noah", Macy said, rising from the table. "Excuse me."

CJ stared after Macy as she went and then turned to Thorne and Alexandria.

"Noah?" he said.

Thorne explained to CJ what little he knew about the child, and CJ listened with some concern.

"But, where does the baby belong?" he said. "Does he have any other living relatives who could come and claim him later on? What's the plan?"

"I don't really know", Thorne said. "We haven't had time to think about that. For now, Macy is looking after him. But there is no permanent solution that I am aware of."

CJ frowned. If Macy wasn't Noah's legal guardian, there was a good chance she would have to give him up eventually. Was she aware of that? He remembered how desperately his sister had wanted a child of her own, and how devastated she had been to learn that it wasn't possible. If she grew too attached to this baby, only to lose him in the end, he hated to think about what that would do to her.

Macy was upstairs in the spare room, holding Noah and softly singing a lullaby. He had woken up crying, but the moment she had picked him up, he had calmed down. He was so beautiful, still very tiny even though he had grown the past few weeks. She looked into his sweet face. He looked a bit sleepy now, making a funny little frown that made him look like a grumpy old man, and then he opened his mouth and yawned.

"Yeah, it's getting late", Macy said. "How about we put you down to sleep, huh?"

Noah seemed to respond to her words by looking in her direction, although she wasn't quite sure if he could really focus his gaze on her or if it was too soon for that. But then his lips parted in what might possibly be - yes, it actually looked like it could be - a smile. An adorable toothless grin. Macy felt a wave of warmth and love flooding her body. He was smiling, at her! It lasted just a few seconds, and then the baby closed his eyes and fell asleep, leaving Macy to wonder if she had read too much into what might just have been a reflex. No, she told herself. It had been more than that. It had seemed intentional. Gently, she put Noah back in the crib and left the room.

As she passed the glass door by the deck on her way back to the dining room, still on a high after having witnessed that first real smile, she saw a sudden movement in the darkness out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she froze and scanned the deck and the surrounding bushes, like she always did, just to be on the safe side. Normally, she found nothing and was quickly reassured, but this time, she could clearly make out a large figure standing on the beach nearby, apparently looking directly at her. When it saw that she had stopped, it approached slowly. As the light from inside the room fell on it, an intense feeling of horror seized hold of Macy.

It was Luigi.

Inside, she could hear the others talking cheerfully, as yet unaware of what was going on. Luigi said nothing but kept walking towards her. His eyes were cold and his face frozen like a mask. Thorne said something funny and Alexandria laughed. They didn't know… they mustn't know! Macy opened the glass door noiselessly and slipped out onto the deck.

"Luigi, what do you want?" she whispered hoarsely.

The man didn't reply. Macy repeated the question, but her throat was so dry it was almost impossible to speak.

"We have unfinished business", Luigi finally said in a matter-of-fact voice. "It's strictly between you and me. I would suggest we don't involve your new friends, wouldn't you agree?"

He pointed towards the house. Macy could see a gleam of metal in his right hand, and realized it must be a gun. She stared at it, hardly able to breathe. Luigi smiled coldly at her reaction.

"It's your party", he said. "You can choose to make a lot of noise and invite everyone, or you can keep it simple and come with me for a… private rendez-vous,"

Macy looked behind her at the warm glow from inside Thorne's house. The last path to safety. Or was it? If she ran inside, Luigi would follow. And Thorne was in there, with Alexandria and CJ. They would all be in very grave danger if she allowed Luigi to come near them. On the other hand, in front of her there was nothing but a dark beach, where nobody would see her or be able to help. If she went down there with Luigi, there was a very good chance she would never return.

"Can't we talk about this?" she pleaded. "Luigi…"

"Now you want to talk?" Luigi said, bitterly. "Where was this candor when you walked out on me, without a word?"

"I'm sorry", Macy said, desperately. "I was afraid. But I haven't betrayed you. I have never said anything about you, to anyone. Please, let's just forget about this and move on…"

"Like you have?" Luigi cut in. "With your ex-husband?"

"I don't know what you are talking about!" Macy replied, weeping. "Luigi, you don't have to do this!"

"You are wrong", Luigi said. "There is no other way."

Luigi looked at her and repeated those final words silently inside his head - "there is no other way". He had thought it would be easier to detach himself emotionally from this job now that this woman had gone back to her old life and her old identity. But it was still just as hard as before. He found himself wavering once again in his decision. Was there really no other way? According to the Boss, there wasn't. And his word was the law. One did not break the law. It was as simple as that.

Macy thought about the people around the dining table. CJ, Thorne, Alexandria. It was only a matter of time before they would start wondering what was taking her so long. She had only a few seconds to act.

"Not here", she finally said, taking a few unsteady steps towards Luigi. "Let's… let's talk somewhere else."

Luigi reached out a strong arm and placed it around her back, not as much to support her as to make sure that she didn't try to get away. He led her down the beach, away from the house, into the darkness. They walked for several minutes in the sand, until they reached a small pier. They went onto it and stopped at the end. Luigi let go of Macy and turned to face her.

"It's really a shame it would have to come to this" he said. "I'm so sorry, Barbie."

"It's Macy. Macy Alexander. But you knew that from the start, didn't you?"

"You will always be Barbie to me."

There was something final in Luigi's voice, a resignation that meant that although part of him still didn't want to kill her, his mind was made up. Macy heard it and realized there was no point in trying to reason with him, or trying to escape. They had reached the end.

"Tell me about my father", Macy said, faintly. "I want to know how he died."

Luigi sighed. Maybe it was only right that she should know, if it gave her some kind of closure.

"We sought him out", Luigi said. "He had unfinished business with us. We had been looking for him for a long time, many years in fact, and we finally found him."

"Where?"

"In a hospital room. A small private clinic. Visiting his daughter who was in a coma. You, Barbie."

"So you…" Macy couldn't go on.

"Yes."

"Did he suffer?"

"No."

Macy nodded, staring blankly in front of her. Luigi continued his narrative:

"Since you were in the room, and we didn't know how aware you might be of what was happening around you, at first we didn't intend to let you live. But I just couldn't…"

"Why?" Macy asked.

Luigi didn't reply, but reached out a hand to touch her cheek very gently. She didn't recoil. She didn't even seem to notice.

"I'm sorry, Barbie", Luigi said again. "I wish it could have been different."

He took out his revolver and pointed it at Macy's forehead. There was a soft clicking sound as he cocked it. Macy started sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Barbie. I'm sorry, Barbie…" the man repeated, over and over.

Macy looked at Luigi. His eyes were sad, almost regretful. But the hand holding the revolver was completely steady. It was a small revolver, gleaming faintly in the moonlight and looking almost like a toy.

She closed her eyes.

Moments later, there was the sharp loud bang of a gun shot.

A soft thud.

The scattered cries of a few startled seagulls.

And the waves crashing onto the sand, regular like heartbeats.

* * *

Macy took a deep breath. She could still breathe. The cool evening breeze made her shiver. She was alive. Slowly, she opened her eyes again.

At first, she saw nothing. Then she noticed the huddled lifeless body at her feet. Luigi. She knelt down beside him cautiously. He didn't move. A closer look revealed that the gun was still in his hand, and that he was bleeding profusely from a small round hole in his right temple. His open eyes were dark and expressionless.

"My God", Macy whispered. "My God…"

Suddenly, she became aware of the sound of footsteps on the pier. She looked up and saw the figure of a woman approaching rapidly.

"Are you all right?" the woman asked, slightly out of breath.

"I… I think so", Macy stuttered. "Is he… is he dead?"

The woman bent down and observed the man.

"He looks dead to me", she said.

"He shot himself", Macy said falteringly. "He was going to shoot me… and he shot himself instead."

"What?" the woman said, completely astonished. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know… how else…?" Macy said, hesitating. "I would never have thought… I thought for sure he intended to kill me. He was pointing the gun at me, and there was nothing I could do, so I closed my eyes… and waited…"

"Come with me", the unknown woman said. "You are in shock."

The woman led Macy off the pier and onto the beach. There, they sat down on the sand. A few minutes passed in silence. Macy felt as if she was going to be sick, but she tried to breathe deeply and after a while, the nausea had passed. It was over. It was really over. All this time, she had feared that Luigi would come after her, and he had. He had tracked her down, with every intention to kill her. He had pointed that revolver at her. And then, for some reason, he had turned it on himself. Why? Did he feel guilty? Was it something she had said or done? It was so unexpected, so unlike him. And yet, he had told her at one point that he loved her and that he could never live without her. Was this his way of proving that? After all the bad things he had done, did he deserve to die? Did anyone?

"You feeling better?" the woman said. "Look at me!"

Macy looked at her. It was the first time she actually saw the other woman's face. It looked almost ghostly in the moonlight. Two piercing dark eyes, pale skin and dark brown hair. A serious face, one that seemed to have no illusions about the world.

"Thank you", Macy said. "For staying with me, for… for everything. I'm Macy, by the way."

"I know", the other said. "I read about you in the paper. You shouldn't be alone right now. You've been through quite an ordeal."

"My… I am staying at a friend's just down the beach", Macy said. "My brother is there, too. They're probably wondering where I am. I should tell them…"

"That is a good idea", the woman said. "You go to them. Can you walk on your own?"

"Yeah. Yeah", Macy confirmed. "But I can't just leave…"

"I will stay here with the body until the police arrive", the woman said. "You go ahead."

Macy gave the woman a thankful look and started walking along the beach in the direction of Thorne's house.

Sheila followed Macy with her gaze as she disappeared in the darkness, then she smiled incredulously. This was almost too good to be true! Not only had Macy been unable to recognize her even though Sheila had urged her to look closely, she had also immediately jumped to the conclusion that Luigi had committed suicide. Sheila had read in the paper about Macy's amnesia, but the rest had been an unexpected, and very welcome, bonus.

When Sheila had spotted Luigi waiting outside Thorne's beach house earlier that evening, it had come as no surprise to her. She had been anticipating his presence. After all, Luigi was after Macy and that was where she was staying according to the press. At that point, Sheila's first priority had been making Luigi pay for what he had done to Diana, and once that had been accomplished, she would try to figure out a way to get her grandchild away from Macy and somehow make the Forresters pay for everything they had done. As she discreetly followed Macy and Luigi along the beach and onto the pier, she was still weighing her options. She was an excellent shot and could have killed them both, but that would have made it difficult for her to get to the baby afterwards, and almost impossible to get anywhere near the Forresters, as the police would be all over the place. So instead, she had opted for a more intricate and daring solution. And it had paid off. She still had a chance to bring the powerful Forrester family down somehow. But she would need help from the inside to do it, someone who could, albeit unknowingly, provide her with information and help her set her plans in motion. Tonight, she had made just such an ally - the woman whose life she had saved. Macy would be perfect, if she was still anything like Sheila remembered her. Sweet and likable, trusting and trustworthy, naive, highly suggestible, dependent, emotionally weak and not too clever. Yes, she would be perfect.

Sheila returned to the pier and bent over Luigi's body. She had to act quickly. First, she took the revolver out of his hand and replaced it with her own - the one that had actually fired the bullet that had killed him. It was possible that someone would notice the absence of burnt skin around his temple and deduce that the shot had been fired from a distance, but Macy's testimony would make it unlikely that anyone would consider any other explanation than suicide. Then, she searched the man's coat pocket for any identification or information that could be useful to her. She found a phone, a wallet and a notebook. The wallet contained only an ID which was obviously fake (although it was quite believable, Sheila had had enough fake IDs herself to know one when she saw one), a few credit cards and some money. Sheila put it back but kept the phone and the notebook. Then she made sure that her gun, the gun she had just bought from her old friend Mike Guthrie, fit neatly into Luigi's hand so that the finger prints were right. Before leaving the body, she made sure she hadn't left anything behind or stepped in the blood.

After having taken every precaution, she withdrew to the old car she had borrowed to examine the phone and the notebook. The phone contained a large number of contacts, one of whom was labeled "The Boss". She found several entries in the notebook also referring to this person. There was a lot written in Italian as well, and what seemed like records of business transactions involving large sums of money.

The mob? Sheila felt pretty sure that was what it all meant. The bits and pieces she had managed to overhear from the conversation between Luigi and Macy earlier on supported that theory, as well. It was some kind of criminal organization, at any rate. A criminal organization that dealt with a lot of shady things, probably, one of which was child prostitution. Her daughter had been a victim of this. Luigi had been directly responsible, yes, but they were all guilty. The whole nightclub had known about it, and maybe this Boss as well. Her daughter's blood was on their hands, as well as on the Forresters'.

Slowly, a plan started to form in Sheila's mind, more detailed and specific than the vague one she had had in mind until now. An outrageous plan, dangerous and brilliant. All the people who had had a hand in her daughter's death and her own imprisonment, both the underhanded criminals and the high and mighty Forresters, would pay dearly. And the beautiful part was that they would bring about their own destruction. Or rather, they would bring about each other's. A few nudges in the right direction from Sheila herself, a few well-placed words or actions to fan the flames, a couple of unsuspecting people acting as pawns in this elaborate game…

The stakes were enormously high. But if anyone could pull it off, Sheila Carter could. She had lost her daughters, she had lost her chance at a normal life. Now, she had nothing left to lose.

That was her greatest strength.


	24. Chapter XXIV: The Informant

**Chapter XXIV: The Informant**

After Macy had left the dinner table to check on Noah and not returned, Thorne had gone upstairs to look for her. Discovering that the baby was sound asleep and Macy nowhere to be found, he had immediately started fearing the worst, even though he didn't have a very specific idea what "the worst" actually might be. The way Macy had been acting lately, she had obviously been afraid of someone. In his own mind, Thorne had felt inclined to brush her fears off as a side effect of her withdrawal from alcohol, but now, he was beginning to think he might have been wrong, after all. What if whoever Macy was fearing was on her track, and she had had to make a sudden escape? Or worse - what if they had actually found her? In that case… if Macy had been right all along about this ominous person… then, then… Dear God, he had to find her!

Suddenly, there was a strange popping sound from outside. It sounded a bit like a firecracker, or a car blowing a tire. Or possibly…

Running frantically from room to room, Thorne called out Macy's name. Alexandria and CJ rose from the table and looked at him in surprise.

"Dad, what's going on?" Alexandria inquired.

"She's gone!" Thorne explained breathlessly. "She said she was just checking on the baby, right? But she's not there."

"You mean she just took off?" CJ said, incredulously. "That doesn't sound like Macy. She didn't seem like she was…"

"No, no", Thorne said quickly, "all of her things are still here."

"So maybe she went to get some air", Alexandria suggested. "Did you check out on the deck?"

Thorne opened the door and hurried outside. Nobody was there. He called Macy's name again, but there was no answer. He ran down to the water and looked as far as he could see along the beach in both directions, but his eyes were not accustomed to the dark and he couldn't distinguish any details. Again, he called out for her. She had to be there somewhere. She had to. Because if she wasn't, where could she be? And what was that sound? Where had it come from?

"Macy!" he called again, at the top of his lungs, putting both his hands to his mouth.

For a few seconds, there was no response. Then, suddenly, he thought he heard a woman's voice calling out to him in reply. At first, he was unsure whether he had heard right - he couldn't make out any words. It might just have been a bird. But when he looked down the beach again he could clearly see a woman's figure approaching with the rapid unsteady movement that comes from trying to run in the sand in shoes which are not made for that purpose. It was her. It was her! Thorne gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Macy", he said, running to meet her.

She hurried towards him, almost running straight into him. Then she threw her arms around his neck without a word and clung to him as if her life depended on it. Thorne could feel that she was cold and shaking like a leaf. He held her and spoke to her gently, realizing that something must have happened to frighten her, and trying to figure out what it was.

"Shh", he said soothingly. "It's all right. It's all right. I'm here. It's going to be okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

Macy let Thorne talk and seemed to be listening, but didn't reply. She just kept clinging to his neck, her eyes closed and her breathing uneven. CJ and Alexandria came up to them with concerned looks on their faces. Slowly, Macy let go of Thorne and looked at him. She struggled to calm her breathing down enough to be able to speak. Then she whispered, so softly that only Thorne could make out the words:

"Call the police. Thorne, you have to… Down on the pier. I think he's dead."

Thorne froze. Looking back at his daughter and CJ who were standing there eager to find out what was going on, he said hoarsely:

"CJ, Ally, would you mind checking on the baby?"

CJ nodded silently and led a reluctant Alexandria into the house. They both realized the baby didn't need checking. When they had gone inside, Thorne looked gravely at Macy.

"What did you just say, Macy?" he asked. "Help me understand. You're not making any sense."

"There's a dead man on the beach", Macy replied, a bit more coherently. "You have to call the police."

"What man? How did you find him? Do you know who it is?" Thorne said.

"Luigi", Macy whispered. "He came here to… I don't know anymore."

She shook her head in confusion. Thorne tried to make sense of her narrative.

"Is this the person you have been afraid of?" he asked. "The one you thought would come looking for you?"

Macy nodded.

"What happened?" Thorne asked.

"He… he had a gun", Macy said. "And I thought… I was sure he'd… but he didn't. He said he was sorry. And when I opened my eyes, he had shot himself instead."

"Did he…" Thorne said as the meaning of her words started to sink in. "Did he intend to… to hurt you?"

"Yes", Macy confirmed. "At least I thought so. He held the gun to my… to my head."

As her emotions finally caught up with her and she fully realized what had just happened, Macy started sobbing uncontrollably and was unable to continue. Thorne led her into the living room and had her sit down on the couch as he phoned the police. Then he poured her a glass of water and they waited together in silence until an officer arrived. It was officer Jones whom Thorne had already met at the hospital on the day of Macy's arrival. He sat down next to Macy and asked her to explain what had happened. Having had time to gather her thoughts, she explained to the officer briefly what she had just told Thorne, but without mentioning any specific facts or details that could lead them back to the nightclub and the world she had just escaped. The officer looked at her eagerly and took notes.

"So you say this man threatened your life?" officer Jones asked. "And then he turns around and shoots himself instead?"

"Yes", Macy said.

"Do you have any idea why he would want to do that? I mean, what is your relation to him?"

"I… I knew him before", Macy said hesitantly. "But I left him. I wanted to get away from it all. He didn't like that. He was very angry."

"Why?" officer Jones said.

"I think he felt like I… betrayed him", Macy explained. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I can't really help you."

"Why not?" the officer asked, his interest suddenly peaked by Macy's evasiveness. "What is going on here? You have to understand we need the full story here. So far, you haven't really given us much to go on."

Macy shook her head, but didn't reply.

"I think you should tell him everything you know", Thorne said gently. "He only wants to help. Like, who is this Luigi guy? Where did you meet?"

"I can't", Macy said emphatically. "I've already said too much. I shouldn't have…"

"Macy", Thorne said as a sudden idea flashed through his mind, "was this guy some kind of professional criminal?"

Macy looked at him briefly, a very revealing glance, but still said nothing. Officer Jones caught it and pounced on it.

"Is that it, Ms Alexander?" he asked. "Do you have reason to believe this was a contract job gone wrong? If so, you need to make a statement…"

"I can't!" Macy cried. "Don't you see? I want to let it go. I want it to be over. He shot himself, maybe he wanted to get out too, maybe he didn't want to keep doing those things… Now Luigi's dead and I'm still alive, and I don't want to do anything to cross them again…"

"Them?" officer Jones asked. "Who are these people? Some kind of criminal organization? Where are they? What do they do? How much do you know about them? Do you have any names?"

"I already told you, I can't say anything else!" Macy repeated.

"I have to warn you, Ms Alexander", officer Jones said sternly. "Protecting a criminal will not make you look too good in the eyes of the law."

"It's not the criminals I'm protecting!" Macy cried, frustrated.

Officer Jones sighed with exasperation and rose from his seat. With a final significant look at Macy and Thorne, he said:

"I hope you change your mind. I will be in touch."

Then he left to join his colleagues, who were busy examining the body on the pier.

When he was gone, Thorne gave Macy a worried look.

"If you won't tell the police everything, at least I wish you would confide in me", he said. "You know there's nothing I wouldn't do to help you."

"I know", Macy said, nodding and forcing a smile. "Thank you. But I don't want you involved in this. They don't like people who turn informants. As long as I keep what I've seen and heard to myself, I may be reasonably safe, and so will you, and Alexandria, CJ and Noah… I know it's wrong to let criminals go unpunished, but isn't it better than putting innocent people in harm's way?"

"You may be right" Thorne sad thoughtfully. "I can see why you wouldn't want to live like your father, constantly on the run from the mob because he testified against them…"

Macy dropped the glass of water she had been holding. It fell to the floor and its contents soaked into the carpet. She didn't even notice. Staring at Thorne in shock, she whispered:

"What do you know about my father?"

"Only what you and Sally told me over the years", he said. "And, of course, what little he said when we met, but I never really got to know him that well. He was fairly secretive. He left suddenly when you were a child, and only returned to LA 25 years later for a brief period of time before those men tracked him down and he had to flee to Europe. The next time I saw him was when you were hiding in Italy with him, when we all thought you had died in that car accident, and then he moved again, and I suppose he's been on the run ever since. He could be anywhere on the planet right now…"

"He's dead", Macy said quietly.

Thorne stopped. Macy looked pale, but controlled. Her serious eyes were wide open and fixed on some imaginary point in the distance. Thorne put a tentative hand on her arm. She looked at him briefly.

"Don't ask any more", she pleaded.

Shuddering, Thorne realized that he didn't have to. The "when" and "where" were unimportant, and the "how" and "why" were written all over Macy's face. It was the mob. They had finally got to Adam Alexander and killed him, and now Macy was struggling to free herself from their influence. As horrible as it was, it all made sense now. Macy's constant apprehension. Her refusal to talk about her recent past. Her reluctance to come and stay with Thorne and Alexandria…

"You understand now, don't you?" Macy said, watching Thorne closely as the expression on his face changed.

"Yes", Thorne said grimly. "Macy, I… I had no idea…"

"I know", she said. "But, hopefully, it will end here, with Luigi. You see, it was personal to him. That's… that's over now. And maybe, if I can just leave this all behind me, and make the rest of them see that I'm not a threat to them and their sordid business secrets, they will leave us alone."

"Live and let live", Thorne said. "Does it work that way with these people? You turn a blind eye and you're safe?"

"Maybe", Macy said doubtfully. "What choice do I have?"

* * *

Sheila looked around to make sure that nobody saw her enter the phone booth. She was still near the beach and had seen the police cars arriving to investigate the body on the pier. Of course, she had left the beach long before they came, so as not to be seen there, but she had been able to observe everything from a distance. Now, it seemed like they had finished and taken off again. This was her cue to make her next move.

Dialing the number of the police, she waited eagerly for them to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" a female officer answered.

"Yes", Sheila said. "I have some information regarding a teenage girl who went missing a while ago, around Christmas, I think. Diana Carter. I have been told that she died under suspicious circumstances in a nightclub in…"

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" the officer interrupted.

"I can't say", Sheila said, then continued to give the police officer the exact address of the seedy nightclub in Nevada where she had met Pearl and found out about her daughter's death.

"Thank you", the officer said. "We'll look into it as soon as possible. Is there anything else you have to tell us?"

"Absolutely", Sheila said vindictively, consulting the dates in the notebook she had taken from Luigi's body. "This nightclub, from what I've heard there are a lot of shady things going on there. I think it's used as a cover for some major criminal activity. I heard the manager talking about a transaction involving large sums of money taking place someday soon, on the evening of the 10th, around nine o'clock, I think. I may have understood that wrong, though, but there is definitely something going on. Organized crime, the mafia, I don't know…"

Sheila hung up with a smile and closed the notebook. It had been there, in black and white. September 10th, 9PM, followed by something illegible and a number with six figures. If her assumptions were correct, and even if they weren't, the people in charge of that club would be extremely annoyed by a visit from the police, especially if they started asking questions about Diana. And so soon after the manager's death! That ought to put a spoke in their wheel, Sheila thought.

"You cowards!" Sheila hissed to herself. "You all sat there idly and watched as my innocent daughter died in childbirth in your filthy brothel. Well, you've been messing with the wrong person! You are all going down."

She laughed softly. Because the best part of it was the fact that nobody would ever be able to trace this leak back to her. Unless of course that waitress, Pearl, put two and two together. It might be a good idea to keep an eye on her in the future…

Sheila looked at her watch. If she started driving now, she might be back in Nevada tomorrow morning. It might be a few more days before the first effects of her plan started showing, but she wanted to be there to be able to monitor it all in person.

It was just the beginning.


	25. Chapter XXV: Opening a Can of Worms

**Chapter XXV: Opening a Can of Worms**

The Boss watched the nightclub from across the street. He was furious. As soon as he had got the phone call this morning informing him of a police raid in the club the night before, he had hurried over there as discreetly as possible to assess the damage for himself. Unfortunately, it was even worse than he had imagined. The place was overcrowded with policemen and it seemed clear that the nightclub would not open again anytime soon, if ever. And, what was worse, the unexpected appearance of the police had coincided with a major business transaction, which had apparently been intercepted and several arrests had been made. As if that wasn't enough, the police had been asking questions about that missing teenage girl, and were somehow convinced that her body had been hidden somewhere in the vicinity of the club. This whole thing was a nightmare!

It was certainly true that bad things never occur alone. Only recently, he had received the news of Luigi's death - one of his most trusted associates. And now, the club had been closed by the police. Two important cornerstones in the organization had fallen at once. A coincidence? Very unlikely. Very unlikely indeed.

Looking around, the Boss spotted a woman standing at the end of the street looking shocked. He recognized her as one of the waitresses in the club. Walking up to her, he decided it was time to get some more information.

"It's Pearl, right?" he said, addressing her in a businesslike tone.

The woman looked startled.

"Boss?" she said hesitantly.

In all the years she had known him by sight from his occasional appearances in the nightclub, he had never once before spoken to her.

"Were you working last night?" he asked. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know much", Pearl said. "It all happened so fast. Suddenly, the police were all over the place, in the club, upstairs, even inside Luigi's room behind the bar…"

The Boss stiffened. The safe was in that room. And there would be no explaining away what was in that safe…

"What did they do? What did they say?" he asked sharply.

"I don't know", Pearl said. "They arrested a few guys who were at the bar, they looked like businessmen. Then they started asking us all sorts of questions. About what was happening in the club, and about that girl…"

"Did you tell them anything?"

"Of course not!" Pearl said, looking frightened. "I know we're not supposed to do that. I don't think anyone would…"

"But someone did", the Boss observed coldly. "Why else would the police even come here in the first place? How would they get the idea to look for that damned kid in this place? No, we have a serious leak on our hands."

Pearl took a deep breath. Frantically, she tried to remember what exactly she had told Diana's mother that day when she had come to the club looking for her daughter. Why had she even opened up to her in the first place? She had taken pity on the poor bereaved woman, against her better judgment. Could it be that it was Diana's mother who had ended up going to the police? But if so… if so, it was she, Pearl, who was the leak! And she knew what that meant - admitting to that fact would be suicide.

"I can't imagine who would have done such a thing", Pearl said. "I mean, we have all lost our jobs because of this. We're out on the street. Nobody would deliberately jeopardize the existence of the club. It was all we had."

The Boss was silent. What Pearl had said was true for most people working in the nightclub. They had all been loyal to Luigi, and by extension, to the organization, even though most of them didn't know very much about it. Luigi and the Boss had wanted to keep it that way.

But there had been one exception. That Alexander woman. Already before she took off, she had been the weakest link, with her drunken outbursts and displays of poor self-control. Luigi had died, allegedly by committing suicide, virtually outside the house where she was currently staying. And almost immediately following that, someone had talked to the police. Someone with inside information. That could be no coincidence - it was only too easy to connect the dots. The Boss had been right all along. They should have taken care of her a long time ago, before things got out of hand. Now, the damage had already been done, and it was irreparable. Luigi was dead. And the Boss felt sure that the official story of suicide was false. The Luigi he had known and trusted for years would certainly not kill himself. No, he had been killed. He must have been.

By her? The Boss thought back to how he remembered Barbara, as she had called herself then. Drunk, bothering Luigi at the bar, singing with the band, fussing over the pregnant kid. He had to admit he had a very hard time picturing her firing a bullet through a man's temple. She wouldn't have had the nerve, and more importantly, she wouldn't have had the aim. And she most certainly wouldn't have had the brains to make it look like suicide and get away with it. Yet, she had to be the informant. But as for the rest, she must have had help.

The Boss reflected for a moment. He was alone now - Pearl had taken the opportunity to make a quick exit. Pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, he weighed the possible explanations. The Alexander woman had taken refuge at a Thorne Forrester's house, that was what the paper had said. Luigi had gone there looking for her, and ended up dead. Now, why did the name Forrester ring a bell?

Of course. They were a rich and powerful family, well-known in the fashion industry. But that was not how they had caught the Boss' attention. Instead, he remembered having read about them in connection with several very strange legal affairs. There had been several shootings in the past, unexplained car accidents, arson, many curious criminal incidents which had been related in the tabloids. But what had piqued the Boss' interest had been the fact that despite the obvious crimes committed, nobody in the Forrester family had ever served a proper prison sentence. In almost every case, they had been acquitted or the charges had just been dropped. Thorne Forrester… even that name sounded familiar. Yes. There had been speculation many years ago that he had shot his own brother in the head, attempting to kill him. There had never been any tangible proof, and the case had been covered up. Then, years later, he had been arrested for murder, but another man had ended up convicted of the crime.

The Forresters! The Boss had to admit that in spite of himself, he was impressed. The way they had handled themselves over the years with regards to escaping the law was worthy of any powerful criminal organization. Even the Boss couldn't have done it better himself. So he knew only too well what he was up against. The Forresters were very respectable indeed, but beneath the surface they had unlimited power and resources. The had the police on their side. And now they had joined forces with the Alexander woman against Luigi and against the organization. That amounted to nothing less than an act of war in the Boss' eyes.

He needed to take a stand. They had already killed his business companion, no, his friend. He had seen Luigi as a friend. And then, they had thwarted his plans for the nightclub, causing major financial loss to the organization. If they kept interfering like this, it might ruin everything. No, these people needed to be warned. They needed to suffer losses of their own.

"Damn those Forresters!" he hissed furiously.

The Boss picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Don?" he said. "Will you take care of business for me for a while? I am going to Los Angeles."

Then he hung up with a determined look and left for his car.

Sheila rose from behind the bush where she had been hiding for the last half hour. She had been watching the night club ever since the police raid last night, hoping to see the results of her anonymous tip first hand. And she had not been disappointed. This final conversation she had managed to overhear had been the icing on the cake. Now she had gained three very vital pieces of information:

One, Pearl was too afraid for her own skin to expose Sheila as the informant.

Two, Sheila now knew who the Boss was and what he looked like.

Three, the Boss had drawn exactly the conclusion that Sheila had hoped for - that the Forresters were behind his troubles.

The wheels were set in motion.

* * *

"Oh no, not again!" Eric exclaimed with exasperation, closing his laptop and leaning heavily on the desk in his office at E F Couture.

"What's the matter?" Brooke said.

"The computer system is down again" Eric said, frustrated. "It's the third time this week. I can't believe there is no quick way to get information down to the sewing room. This building must be haunted."

"Maybe it just likes doing things the old-fashioned way?" Donna suggested, entering the office. "Look what I found hidden away in a closet!"

She held up an old microphone that looked at least 40 years old.

"What is that?" Hope asked, astonished. "I didn't think these things even existed nowadays."

"I have heard stories about that!" Eric exclaimed. "It must be the microphone Sally used to rally the troops. Maybe if we can get it working we'll be able to communicate with the sewing room over the loudspeaker system."

"Sally Says Recycle!" Donna chanted. "I'll get to it and see what we can do."

She disappeared with the microphone. Brooke shook her head.

"I can't believe it", she said. "There was never a problem with the network over at Forrester."

"Maybe you're right, Eric", Hope joked. "Maybe this place really is haunted."

"The evil Spectra leprechaun", Eric said, playing along. "Loyal to the first owners and determined to make mischief against the new ones."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Thorne's office, Macy, Thorne and Connor Davis had just sat down to discuss legal matters.

"Thanks for stopping by, Connor", Thorne said. "I thought my office would be convenient for you, knowing that you work nearby…"

"Of course", Connor said, turning to both of them, "it's not a problem. It's great to see you again, Macy. It's been a while. You look well."

"Thanks, Connor", Macy said. "I'm getting there, one day at a time. What with everything that's happened, and everything that I can't remember, there's a lot that I need to sort out."

"Well, hopefully, we'll do some of that right now", Connor suggested. "I have looked into how you can reclaim your money and possessions. According to your will…"

"Wait", Macy said, confused, "I have a will?"

"Yes", Connor said. "In fact, you made several. You were very thorough in that regard. But I helped you draw up the most recent one only a few months before your… well, your latest death, for want of a better word."

"What does it say?" Macy asked.

Connor consulted his papers.

"Well", he explained, "it was quite a simple will. You left half your money to be divided between your half siblings Clarke Garrison Junior and Kimberly Fairchild, and the other half, as well as the future royalties of your music, to your husband Deacon Sharpe."

"So how can she get it all back?" Thorne asked. "Maybe we should have asked CJ to tag along today as well."

"No, no", Macy objected. "I don't want to ruin him completely. Remember he told us he had invested a lot of money recently in starting a café in Paris. I don't want to take all his savings away from him."

"What about Kimberly?" Thorne asked.

"Well, there's a bit of a mystery there", Connor said. "She never claimed her inheritance, and from what I have been able to find out, no such person exists any more."

"My sister is… she's dead?" Macy asked, her eyes widening.

"No, there is no indication of that", Connor explained reassuringly. "But it is possible that she has changed her identity. She may be in a witness protection program, for example. That would make it exceedingly difficult, and not very advisable, to contact her."

"So what happened to her money?" Thorne asked, curiously.

"It is still unclaimed", Connor explained, "which means it will not be too difficult for Macy to get it back. There's a bit of paper work involved, of course, so it might take some time. But it shouldn't pose any problems."

"What about…" Macy asked hesitantly. "Where do I stand with Deacon Sharpe?"

"As your husband, he inherited half of what you possessed at the time", Connor said. "But I'm not sure how much of it still remains…"

"What does that mean?" Thorne asked. "He spent it all?"

"From what I have been able to find out, Mr Sharpe hasn't been living a very responsible life for the past few years", Connor stated delicately. "He has been engaged in various criminal activities and spent a lot of money on all the wrong things. He even served a prison sentence until a little more than a year ago. After that, nobody really knows what became of him. He seems to be hiding away somewhere. But I think he could be located, if that's really what you want, Macy."

"Is he still my husband, legally speaking?" Macy asked. She was pale.

"Yes", Connor confirmed. "Your marriage is still valid."

"Then what choice do I have? He deserves to know."

Thorne couldn't suppress a sudden feeling of disappointment. He looked at Macy, and she looked back at him, a quick, uncomfortable glance.

"In that case, there are many things we could do to find him", Connor continued. "Use the Internet, advertise, contact the police, private investigators… It may take a while, but we'll get there eventually, I'm sure."

"I hope so". Macy said, sighing. "Because until I find out where things stand with me and my… my husband, my whole life is basically on hold. I can't really make any specific plans for the future without knowing whether or not he'll be a part of that."

"Then I'll start working on a plan right away", Connor said, rising. "Don't worry, Macy. We'll find him, I promise."

"Thank you, Connor", Macy said, shaking his hand as he was about to leave.

"Thank you, Connor", Thorne echoed. "We'll be in touch."

As the door closed behind the lawyer, Thorne took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture.

"What is it, Thorne?" Macy commented. "On the whole, this is good news, right? I'll be getting some of my money back, meaning I can get a place of my own, and we are well on our way to tracking down Deacon…"

"I'm not sure I would call Deacon good news, Macy."

"Because he was in prison?" Macy asked with some concern. "Why, what exactly did he do? Was he violent? Did he…"

"I don't know what he did to end up there", Thorne admitted. "He had left town by then. But he was always bad news, a scoundrel."

"Was he violent?" Macy asked again. It was a vital point to her.

"No", Thorne said. "At least not that I know of. And not in the sense you mean. He was never cruel to you. During the few months you and Deacon lived together as a married couple, I always got the impression that he treated you well, and that you were… happy."

Thorne had spoken that last word very slowly, almost reluctantly. Macy noticed it.

"Is this difficult for you?" she asked softly.

"No. Why would it be?" Thorne said, trying to sound neutral.

"Well… I mean, since you and I used to be married at one point…" Macy said uneasily, "I could see that it would be awkward for you to discuss my relationship with Deacon."

"Why, is it awkward for you?" Thorne retorted.

"No!" Macy replied, a little too emphatically.

They were silent for a minute, neither of them looking at the other.

"Maybe it's a good thing that I'll be able to buy my own place soon", Macy observed after a while. "I've already stayed so long with you and Ally, it must be getting on your nerves by now…"

"It's no trouble at all", Thorne objected. "We've kind of got used to having you around, you know."

"All the more reason I shouldn't stay", she said, shaking her head. "Besides, we still don't know if it's safe…"

"Nothing more has happened", Thorne said reassuringly. "I don't think it will, not now. You said yourself you thought those people would stay calm as long as we didn't do anything to provoke them."

"At least I hope so", Macy said gravely. "God, I wish…"

"It's going to be okay, Macy", Thorne said with a smile. "And, as you say, things are starting to fall into place for you. Speaking of which, how about I give you the grand tour of E F Couture, formerly Spectra Fashions? You did virtually grow up in this building, after all."

"I'd like that", Macy said, returning his smile.

They left Thorne's office and went through the corridor towards the elevator. When they passed outside Eric's office they found Donna sitting at her desk, looking crestfallen.

"Hey, Donna!" Thorne said cheerfully.

Donna looked up, slightly startled.

"Thorne? Macy?" she said. "Well, I… gosh, Macy, this is… I can't believe it, it's been how many years?"

Macy looked at Thorne inquiringly.

"You were friends with Donna when you first moved back to LA after college", Thorne prompted helpfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry, hi, Donna!" Macy said apologetically, then suddenly something on Donna's desk caught her attention and she forgot to carry on the conversation.

Donna followed her gaze and sighed.

"I've been trying everything to make this stupid thing work", she said, picking up Sally's old microphone. "It's supposedly connected to the speaker system now, but I can't make it work. It's dead."

Macy was still looking at the microphone with great interest.

"May I…?" she asked almost reverently.

"Sure", Donna said. "Give it your best shot."

Macy picked up the object and looked at it closely. A funny old microphone on a small stand. It seemed to have been transported there from a different time, a different era - just like she herself felt at times. She felt at the bottom of it for a power switch and found it, but it didn't appear to be working. Shaking the microphone carefully, she could hear something rattling inside.

"Do you have a screwdriver?" she asked Donna. "Or a letter opener?"

Donna handed Macy a letter opener and watched in surprise as Macy quickly opened the bottom of the microphone stand and tightened a small screw that had come loose on the inside. Putting everything back together, she pressed the switch one more time and tapped her finger softly on the microphone. Immediately, there was a corresponding sound in a loudspeaker. Thorne laughed.

"Mace, I had no idea you were a mechanic!" he joked.

"I'm not", she said. "I don't know anything about these things. But in this case it just… I don't know, it seemed so obvious."

"Maybe you've done it before", Thorne suggested. "This gadget was already here during the Spectra days."

Macy laughed and caressed the microphone. Maybe she had handled it before, she thought. Or seen it handled enough to know how it was done. Another fragile link to that elusive past.

"We should probably tell Eric it's working", Donna said. "The computer network is down and he's been desperate to find another quick way to communicate with the sewing room."

"Sure, of course", Macy said. "I'll bring it to him. I have been meaning to say hi to Eric anyway while I am here."

Macy knocked on the door of Eric's office and entered carrying the microphone. Eric looked up from his desk with a surprised smile and rose to greet her.

"Macy!" he said warmly as he embraced her. "It's such a pleasure to finally see you again!"

"It's nice to see you too, Eric", Macy said. "Oh, and the microphone's working. Donna thought you might want it."

"Thanks, Macy", Eric said, then continued, "I was wondering how long it would be before I got the chance to welcome you back…"

"Well", Thorne said as he followed Macy into the office, "a lot has been going on, as you might know. Only today we had a meeting with Connor Davis…"

"We are trying to locate my husband, Deacon", Macy filled in.

"You are doing what!?" Brooke cried out from where she was sitting in a corner with Hope, busy going over some sales figures. Until this moment, she had sat silently watching Macy, and had remained unnoticed by her. But in response to the sudden exclamation, Macy turned around and noticed Brooke. Brooke rose from her seat. Macy frowned.

"Macy, this is Brooke", Thorne offered, a little nervously. "She's…"

"I know who Brooke is", Macy replied stiffly.

"So you do remember?" Brooke asked suspiciously.

"No, Thorne told me."

"Look, Mace", Thorne tried, "maybe we should leave. Remember we told Dayzee we wouldn't be long when we left her to babysit…"

"Yeah", Macy agreed gratefully. "I want to get back to Noah."

Macy took a few quick steps towards the door, but Brooke's tense voice called her back.

"Wait! Wait", she said. "What were you just saying about Deacon? You aren't seriously considering bringing him here, are you?"

"Why not? He's my husband", Macy said with an exasperated sigh.

"He's nothing but trouble", Brooke replied emphatically. "For all of us."

"But he has a right to know the truth", Macy said. "He needs to find out that we are still married. We need to sort out this situation, together."

"With all due respect, Macy", Brooke said, trying to contain her frustration, "you haven't been around to see first hand the damage he's caused. What kind of… what kind of a person he is. Do you even remember anything about him?"

"That is beside the point", Macy answered defensively.

"No, that is exactly the point", Brooke retorted. "You two hardly knew each other. You were married for what, two months? If you can even call it a marriage."

"What the… what is that supposed to mean?" Macy said, feeling her patience running out.

"Well, you were just two bitter people bonding over your mutual desire to stick it to me and my family", Brooke continued. "But I'm sure you have 'forgotten' that, haven't you?"

"Brooke, that's enough!" Thorne said sharply.

Brooke retreated.

"Okay", she said, "so maybe I shouldn't have brought that up, but someone has to. Someone has to make her see what a disaster it would be to bring back Deacon. He can't be trusted. He's a con, he's scum…"

"Look, Macy", Eric said, "Brooke has a certain point. I think we need to be careful about this. There is no telling what Deacon's presence might do to this family…"

"I can't just hide this from him", Macy said unwaveringly. "He has a right to know, no matter who he is or what he did. And I can't go on with my life until he does…"

"Sure you can", Brooke tried in a reasoning voice. "Come on, Macy. You don't even want that marriage back anyway. It's blatantly obvious to everyone that you and Thorne…"

"How dare you?" Macy snapped angrily. "You don't know the first thing about what I want. And you have some nerve insinuating…"

"Hey, Macy", Thorne said awkwardly, putting a hand on Macy's arm, "we really should be going…"

"No, Thorne, she's going to hear this!" Macy said, shaking him off, "I am going to speak to Deacon. Not because I want to stir up trouble or stick it to anyone, but because it's the right thing, the decent thing, to do. If you don't like that, Brooke, I'm sorry, but that is not your decision to make!"

"So you do the decent thing and to hell with everyone else, is that it?" Brooke replied angrily.

"I'm contacting my own husband, not summoning the devil!"

"Well, you might as well be!" Brooke shouted. "I don't want that monster anywhere near my daughter…"

"…who happens to be his daughter, too!" Macy remarked. "But that doesn't even matter to you, does it?"

"Deacon has never been a father to her!" Brooke pointed out.

"But you wouldn't let him, would you?" Hope remarked.

Until this point, she had sat silently listening to the others arguing, the thoughts racing through her mind. Her father… Deacon Sharpe. He had come to her that day in Italy, her wedding day. At the time, she had been overjoyed to see him. But later, she had found out why he had really come. To stop her wedding to Liam. Acting for Bill Spencer, because he wanted to get out of jail. Not because he had wanted to see her. And yet… and yet Deacon's affection for her had seemed genuine at the time. The way he looked at her, the way he talked to her - it couldn't all have been an act. She needed to talk to him again. To get an explanation, to find out the truth. To find out if she really had a father or not.

"Hope!" Brooke exclaimed in surprise.

"You know, Mom", Hope said, "Macy's not the only one who needs to talk to Deacon. I do too."

"Honey, you know…" Brooke began.

"Yes, I know we've talked about this", Hope interrupted. "But he is my biological father. And I still have a lot of questions I need to ask him, and a lot of things I need to tell him."

"Look, Hope, are you sure about this?" Eric said in a worried voice.

Hope looked around the room with determination until her eyes fell on her father's wife.

"Macy, I'll help you find him", she said.

As Macy and Thorne left the office, Brooke sat down trying to focus on her sales figures again. It was impossible. So she had been right about Macy - she hadn't changed one bit in all these years! That woman would once again disrupt her family and jeopardize everything Brooke cherished the most. Her relationship with her daughter. Her chances of winning back Ridge's trust. Macy had already got Hope to side with her against Brooke in the matter of bringing Deacon to town. How long before she managed to drive yet another wedge between them? How long before Deacon ended up hurting Hope again? And once that man arrived, Ridge would again be reminded of why he had left Brooke in the first place. How could she make him forget that one stupid text message if Deacon was in town as a constant reminder? This whole situation was a recipe for disaster. And just like all those years ago, Macy was the cause of it.

* * *

Macy was unusually quiet in the car as they were driving back to Thorne's beach house.

"Are you all right?" Thorne asked.

"Yeah. Yeah", Macy replied. "It's just that… I can't remember the last time I took such a strong and instant dislike to somebody. She's just the most aggravating person I've ever met! I tell you, when I think about the way Brooke spoke to me, her tone of voice, the things she said… it makes my blood boil."

"You know, Mace", Thorne said, his eyes on the road, "I wouldn't exactly call it an instant dislike. Your animosity towards Brooke goes back a long way, and with good reason, I guess. Though I'm mostly to blame for that."

"I know. I mean, you told me about what happened with you and Brooke all those years ago, and I realize that has to play into the way I see her now, but it was more than that. It was more like I had this immediate reaction, this flood of negative emotions the moment I saw her. I couldn't stand her even before I understood who she was."

"Maybe that's a good sign", Thorne suggested.

"Say what?" Macy was astounded.

"Well, it means that on some level, you remembered her. Just like you must have remembered that microphone without realizing it."

Macy looked at Thorne in surprise. She hadn't thought of that, but it did make sense. She smiled.

"You may be right", she said. "Maybe I'm not as completely cut off from my past as I think."

"See?" Thorne replied. "At least something good came out of your encounter with big bag Brooke."

"I should send her a thank you note", Macy joked.

Thorne chuckled and stopped the car. They were home.


	26. Chapter XXVI: Planting Seeds

**Chapter XXVI: Planting Seeds**

"So, how are the preparations for the fashion show going so far?" Thomas asked, looking from one to the other of the board members who were seated around the table in the office.

"PR is going well", Steffy informed him. "We have contacted all the major fashion magazines and they are all very interested. I would say we'll have good press coverage this time."

"Well, we'd better", Bill Spencer commented. "After the last time, we really can't afford another failure. Of course, Spencer Publications will be covering it, but we'll need some positive reviews in the national press in order to attract buyers."

"We'll get them, Uncle Bill", Caroline said confidently. "Our designs are really good."

"I agree", Thomas said, smiling at Caroline. "We make a great team."

"Will we have a complete collection ready, though?" Steffy asked. "The fashion show is only a few weeks away."

"You can count on it!" Amber exclaimed enthusiastically. "We've all been working out butts off lately. This is gonna be awesome!"

"What about your contacts with the staff at the Queen Mary, Marcus?" Thomas asked. "Are they clear on what we want to do?"

"Absolutely, man!" Marcus said. "Fashion, charity auction, food and beverages, dancing, music, we've got it all covered. Well… almost, anyway."

"Wait, what, what?" Thomas interrupted uneasily. "What do you mean by 'almost'? We can't afford 'almost'."

"As a matter of fact, we've had a cancellation", Marcus explained. "The band we hired to play before and after the actual fashion show and during the dancing just called and said they couldn't make it."

"Oh, great!" Thomas exclaimed with frustration. "We booked them weeks ago, and they're only just now figuring that out. Now what do we do? It's not like we have nothing better to do the next few days than finding replacement musicians…"

"Okay, I'm just having this crazy idea", Amber said, suddenly.

"What's that?" Caroline asked, not without a little suspicion.

"I just happen to know a couple of musicians I used to hang out with a while back", Amber said. "I'm sure they'd be willing to help. Then all we need is a lead singer…"

"And who might that be?" Marcus asked.

"Yours truly, who else?" Amber said, grinning.

"You don't think you'll have other things to do?" Caroline asked. "We kind of need you backstage preparing the showing…"

"I can do both", Amber protested.

"If that's how we're gonna do it", Steffy said, amused, "I could just as well get up there and do some DJ-ing. Heck, why not? It'll get their attention, show them we're youthful, creative, fun-loving. Just the kind of image we're trying to promote for Forrester Creations."

Thomas looked at his sister, then at Amber.

"You guys are really serious about this?" he asked incredulously. "This is not just karaoke night at Dayzee's…"

"Now there's another talent!" Marcus said. "I'm sure Zee wouldn't mind belting out a few tunes as well, she's got a great voice. You know what, I think we can do this ourselves… it'll be fun!"

Bill Spencer leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed.

"So what would you like me to do?" he asked dryly. "Juggle beer bottles?"

"It's for a good cause, Bill", Steffy joked.

"Yeah, that's another thing that doesn't really seem all that wise", Bill replied. "Auctioning off gowns for charity. Giving part of the profits to charity. Maybe its just not in my nature to be altruistic, but I am seeing a major red flag here."

"Why is that, Uncle Bill?" Caroline objected. "I thought we agreed on this."

"We did", Bill continued. "I'm just not sure that if the company goes bankrupt, I will feel all that much better thinking about those poor sick people we just gave all our money to."

"Uncle Bill!" Caroline exclaimed, appalled. "That money could be saving lives!"

"That money could be saving our company", Bill said. "I own part of Forrester Creations, I'm just protecting my investment, that's all."

"Look", Thomas said, a little stressed out, "now is not the time to be second-guessing ourselves. The showing is just around the corner. We need to focus. We've made a plan, and we're sticking to it."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Steffy said. "Let's get back to work, everybody!"

* * *

Michael Guthrie opened his front door suspiciously. He rarely got social calls, and whenever a customer stopped by, it was essential to make sure that nobody else was there to see the transaction. This time, it was with mixed emotions that he saw who the visitor was.

"Sheila!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here again?"

"Gee, Mike, thanks for the warm welcome!" Sheila said, raising an eyebrow and walking straight into the apartment without asking for permission. She knew that Mike had never been able to say no to her.

"Did anybody see you coming here?" Mike asked, nervously.

"Everybody saw me coming here, Mike", Sheila replied with a smile. "But nobody took any notice."

"So, you here just to see me?" Mike said. "After last time, I didn't think…"

"Last time was a bit quick, wasn't it?" Sheila said. "We didn't really have time to catch up, reminisce about old times…"

"I sure didn't expect to see you back in LA", Mike said. "I thought you had been dead for years."

"Well, as you now know, rumors of my death had been greatly exaggerated."

"So what have you been doing all these years?" Mike asked. "Have you been hiding all this time? Do you have a new identity?"

"You are asking too many questions, Mike", Sheila said, effectively cutting off Mike's trail of thought. "I need a favor of you."

"What?" Mike said, dreading the answer.

"I need another gun. At least one, maybe more. And ammunition."

"But I just sold you one!" Mike objected. "What happened to…"

"I had to get rid of it", Sheila said matter-of-factly.

"Why?"

"Because I used it."

Mike froze. He tried to process what Sheila had just said, searching for alternative interpretations of that simple phrase and finding none.

"And this… this new gun you want to buy…" Mike stuttered, "are you planning on… 'using'… that, too?"

"It depends", Sheila said. "If I have to."

"Sheila, are you in trouble?" Mike asked gravely.

Sheila merely laughed in his face.

"Mike, I'm always in trouble. You of all people should know that."

"So you're gonna kill somebody?" Mike said, making it sound like a question although it really wasn't.

"What in the world gives you that impression?" Sheila asked.

"What if I won't sell you another weapon?" Mike challenged her. "I don't particularly like this."

"I'll go somewhere else", Sheila said, shrugging. "But it would be easier with you. You're already in this with me, anyway. Your gun was used to kill a man, if you must know. If I go down, you go down with me. And I'd hate to see that happen."

Mike was starting to sweat. He knew he should never have let Sheila in that day a few weeks ago. But he just hadn't been able to resist. Against his better judgment, he had helped her out, just like so many times all those years ago. And why? Because of that face. Because of those dark, beautiful eyes and that dry wit and razor sharp intellect that shone from them. She was the only woman he had ever felt this way about, even though she had never even seemed to notice. No, that wasn't true. She had noticed, she had known all along, and she had always used it to her advantage. And he had let her. Because he feared her - and because he loved her.

"Well, if I'm in this with you, you might as well let me know what you are planning", Mike said. "What are you after?"

Sheila was silent for a minute, watching Mike closely, trying to read his intentions and assessing whether or not he could be trusted. She was suspicious by nature, but in this case, her gut instinct told her that she had nothing to fear.

"Justice", she finally said, earnestly. "Justice for myself, and for my daughter."

"Mary?" Mike asked, surprised.

"No, my youngest daughter Diana", Sheila corrected him. "I'm sure you don't even know she existed, do you? It's no wonder. The high and mighty Forresters and Marones wouldn't want their family name sullied by any association to me. Even though she is - was - Massimo Marone's child."

"Was…?"

"Yeah, Mike, she's dead. She was taken from me, placed with foster parents who abused her, then was forced into prostitution by the mob and ended up dying in a filthy nightclub while everybody around her turned a blind eye. But I will make them pay for what they did to her, and what they did to me!"

"You're going after the mob?" Mike asked incredulously. "Single-handedly?"

"They are responsible for what happened to her, they killed her", Sheila hissed. "But none of it would have happened if I hadn't been thrown in prison for something I didn't do."

"What… what didn't you do?"

"The so-called murder of Taylor Forrester", Sheila said ironically. "First of all, it was an accident. I never meant to fire that gun in the first place. But she just threw herself at me and it went off. Second of all, she wasn't even dead. I spent prison time for the murder of a living woman, while my daughter was going through hell without me! And that is nobody's fault but those damn Forresters'. Every bad thing that has happened in my life the past decades can somehow be traced back to them. Well, no more!"

"Sheila, what exactly are you going to do?" Mike said. "You can't mean that you're expecting to go up against both the mob and the Forrester family at the same time - that's just…"

"Crazy?" Sheila filled in, her eyebrows raised. "Oh, but Sheila is crazy. Isn't that what they've always said?"

"It's dangerous", Mike said. "If you are caught… if the Forresters catch you you will end up back in prison, and if the mobsters catch you you'll end up dead."

"I have no choice", Sheila said with determination. "There is too much at stake."

Sheila repeated the words silently in her head. There was too much at stake for her to let it go. The Forresters had got their hands on her grandchild. And no matter the cost, they would not get away with it. They had already taken two children from her.

"Well then", Mike said, resigned at last, "if that's the way it is, I do have some guns right here that you might be interested in. But please, Sheila, be careful."

"I always am", Sheila replied.

* * *

Already before Macy entered the living room after having put Noah down for his nap, she could hear the sound of Alexandria playing tentative chords on the electric keyboard, making the occasional mistake, stopping, correcting herself and going on. It had become quite a familiar sound by now, and even during the few weeks that Macy had been staying at Thorne's, she had noticed that Alexandria's piano playing had improved. The girl had an ear for music, there was no doubt about that. With a sudden feeling of sadness, Macy realized that once she moved out, she would miss the sound of Alexandria practicing the piano. And it wouldn't be much longer now - she had found an apartment the other day and the contract was signed.

It was probably for the best, Macy thought. She couldn't depend on Thorne indefinitely. Besides, if they managed to find Deacon he might not be too thrilled that she was staying with her ex-husband.

And yet… it would be hard to leave. Harder than it ought to be, and much harder than she wanted to admit. She had never intended to stay this long in the first place, and she sometimes worried that Alexandria might be bothered by her prolonged presence in the house. Not that Thorne's daughter had said anything to that effect, on the contrary, she was a very sweet child, but it seemed self-evident that a girl who was used to having her father all to herself might not be completely comfortable with the current living arrangements.

Macy watched Alexandria from the doorway with a smile on her face, unwilling to disturb the girl who was obviously concentrating deeply on finding the right chords to a song she was humming. Over and over again, Alexandria repeated the same phrase, trying out a different chord each time but never seeming satisfied. Finally, she looked up and addressed Macy:

"Do you think this is right? Listen to this!"

Macy looked back at Alexandria, surprised. She didn't think that the girl had noticed her standing there.

"Play it again", Macy said, approaching the keyboard.

Alexandria repeated the phrase of the song again, then she frowned.

"No, it doesn't sound right", she concluded.

Macy bent over the piano, watching Alexandria's fingers move across the keys.

"Did you try an A major chord instead?" she suggested.

Alexandria tried it and was satisfied. It was the chord she had been searching for.

"Do you know how to play the piano?" she asked Macy.

"I don't know", Macy said. "I don't think so. Not really, I mean. I know where the chords are, though."

"Dad is really good at it", Alexandria said thoughtfully. "But I've hardly ever heard him play. It's like his singing. He's awesome, and he doesn't want anybody to know about it. He usually just kind of pretends he doesn't like to do that anymore."

"That's too bad", Macy said.

"Yeah", Alexandria said. "I mean, if you're that good, you should just get out there and show it. I wish I could sing like that."

"I'm sure you could, if you wanted to", Macy said encouragingly. "You have a lovely voice, Ally. The rest is just a matter of practice."

"Did you have to practice a lot?" Alexandria asked.

"I don't remember", Macy said. "I guess I must have. At least, I must have sung a great deal."

"It's so strange to think that you and Dad used to tour the world together."

"Yeah, it is", Macy agreed. "I've heard the story, of course, but it seems almost unreal…"

"Hey, I want to show you something!" Alexandria interrupted, rising abruptly from the piano. "I'll be right back."

Alexandria ran from the room and returned a minute later from the garage with a cardboard box. She placed it on the table by the couch and opened it, and motioned to Macy to come and have a closer look. Alexandria started emptying its contents onto the table. CDs, photos, newspaper clippings… every one of them related to Thorne and Macy's brief but successful career as a singing duo.

Macy sat down, picked up an old CD and looked at it.

"Have you listened to this?" she asked Alexandria.

The girl shook her head, then turned to Macy with a grin.

"Shall we?" she said.

After a moment's hesitation, Macy agreed. Her heart started beating slightly faster as Alexandria took the CD from her hands and put it in the CD player. Then, as the first notes of the first song started playing, she felt something very close to butterflies. Those chord progression, that sound, the way her own voice on the record blended with the man's voice she recognized as Thorne's, there was just something so… _right _about it all. That feeling of "rightness" again. It was not exactly familiar, but it fit. She had no recollection of recording this album, but to her own great surprise, she found herself mouthing the words along with the track. Alexandria watched her curiously.

"Do you remember anything?" she asked.

"No", Macy said. "I just know the song. But it's… it's very interesting."

Macy started looking at a few of the newspaper clippings as the music continued playing in the background. Was all this really about her? Sitting down beside her on the couch, Alexandria picked up some other articles and browsed through them thoughtfully.

"I can't believe Thorne saved all this", Macy commented.

"Actually", Alexandria admitted a bit hesitantly, "I was a bit weirded out when I first found this box."

Macy looked at the girl inquiringly.

"Don't take this the wrong way", Alexandria continued awkwardly, "but I didn't know about you and Dad, and it was kind of… well, you know. And then all of a sudden, you showed up and…"

"I can imagine", Macy said. "This situation is strange for me, too."

"Yeah, I'm the reason you guys broke up in the first place. That must be… "

"No, no!" Macy said emphatically, "Ally, that is not what I meant. Absolutely not. I wouldn't… I would never think that. You and Thorne have both been so kind to me since I came here. It's just that there's a lot of things that don't quite add up in my mind right now."

Alexandria found a photograph and showed it to Macy. It was the old wedding photo Alexandria had seen the day she first discovered the box.

"Do you know who all these people are?" the girl asked.

Macy looked at the photo curiously. She immediately recognized herself and Thorne, all dressed up and looking very happy. As for the rest, she tried to place all those faces by drawing to mind what Thorne had told her previously, and old pictures he had shown her.

"The red-headed woman…" Macy began, "she is my mother, right? Yeah, of course she is. And the blonde is Darla, your mom. The old man must be Saul, I think I've seen another picture of him somewhere. And, oh my gosh, is that kid CJ?"

Alexandria laughed.

"It's got to be", she agreed. "He was so chubby back then, I can't believe it's really him!"

"Looks like he had quite an attitude, too", Macy observed with a chuckle. "Look at that face!"

"Too bad I didn't think of showing him this while he was still here", Alexandria said. "That would have been so funny! He's back in Paris now, right?"

"Yeah", Macy said. "I guess he couldn't leave his coffee house for long. I'm gonna miss him, though. It was great meeting him, I feel like I've missed out on so much, being away all this time from my family. I just wish there was some way of letting Mother know I'm okay, I really want to see her."

"Do you miss her?" Alexandria asked, suddenly turning serious.

"I don't really remember her", Macy admitted, sadly.

"I know", Alexandria said. "That's kind of why I ask. Do you think it's possible to miss someone even though you don't remember them?"

"Yes", Macy replied gravely. "Yes, I think that's definitely possible. You can feel that… that something, or someone, is missing, even if you don't have any specific memories of them."

"I think so too", Alexandria agreed. "It's like there's this void where they should be, and you don't really know what your life would be like if they were still there, but you know that because they're not, one piece of the puzzle will always be missing."

Macy glanced at Alexandria. The girl had looked away while she spoke, and there was something tense and unnatural in her posture.

"We are not talking about my amnesia any more, are we?" Macy inquired gently.

Alexandria didn't answer right away. She curled up in her corner of the couch, hugging her knees and bending her head so that a curtain of blonde hair protected her from Macy's concerned gaze.

"I'm not talking about anything in particular", she said in a muffled voice.

They were silent for a moment. The CD was still playing in the background. Finally, Macy spoke:

"I think Darla would have been so proud of you, Ally."

Alexandria started and looked up. Her first impulse was to deny having been thinking about her mother, but then she realized the tears in her eyes would have given her away already. She looked at Macy and said skeptically:

"How do you know?"

"It's just a feeling I have", Macy answered. "I can see you have her smile. She'd have liked that. Besides, any parent would be proud to have you as a daughter. I know your dad is."

Alexandria wiped her eyes and sniffled.

"Sometimes I wish I could talk to her, just one more time", she said quietly. "We never got to talk, you know, really talk, like grown-ups. I was too little. I was just a kid. I didn't get to ask her all those questions I have now…"

"I know", Macy said with a smile. "But even with all those questions unasked, I think you already have the most important answers. The things that really mattered, you already know."

"What?"

"You were loved. And you were wanted. You meant the world to your mother and she would have done anything for you. Isn't that true?"

"I guess so", Alexandria said. "Yes."

"And you still have that love. Your father, your family - everywhere you go, you are surrounded by people who love you. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I think Darla's love for you lingers. Feelings like that don't just go away."

Alexandria looked at Macy and smiled. Maybe she was right. It was a nice thought, anyway. It didn't change what had happened, of course, but then again, nothing could change that. But for now, Alexandria felt her dark mood passing. Seeing that the girl had started to relax again, Macy leant towards her and gave her an encouraging hug. It was the first time that she had ever hugged Alexandria, and she wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea considering her complicated relationship to Thorne and Darla, but Alexandria seemed to take it quite naturally.

When Thorne came through the front door at that moment, they both looked up in surprise. Thorne stopped to take in the unexpected scene - his daughter and Macy looking quite emotional, surrounded by photos and the catchy tune of one of his and Macy's old duets.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"No, no, it's fine, Dad", Alexandria said quickly. "I was just showing Macy some of this old stuff."

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Everything's okay, Thorne", Macy confirmed. "How was your day at work?"

"Interesting", Thorne said. "You guys are not gonna believe what the kids at Forrester have planned for the Queen Mary showing."

"What?" Alexandria said.

"Well", Thorne explained, "apparently they got a cancellation from the musicians, so they decided to provide all the entertainment themselves. Singing, DJ:ing and I don't know what else. What do you say about that?"

"That might give them a bit of attention", Macy commented. "So, how is E F Couture going to top that?"

Thorne was silent for a moment. The CD was still playing. Alexandria looked from Thorne to Macy, and could see the thought striking them almost simultaneously. Their eyes met. A fraction of a second later, the reaction came.

"No…" Macy said with an incredulous laugh.

"No, you're right…" Thorne agreed, his face slightly flushed. "We couldn't possibly…"

"You guys are such hypocrites!" Alexandria teased. "We all know you want to do it."

"My singing days are in the past, Ally", Thorne said. "The very distant past."

"I'm not sure it would be a good idea", Macy said doubtfully. "It might not be safe…"

"I don't think you'd have to worry about that, Macy", Thorne said. "Everybody knows where you are already. Being on a stage would make no difference."

"So you are actually considering this?" Macy asked.

"No, no", Thorne said, shaking his head. "I mean, sure, it would be fun, but… no, I'm not seriously thinking…"

"Dad!" Alexandria cried out, disappointed. "Come on, don't be such a wet blanket!"

"What did you say?" Thorne said, feigning horror. "Did my daughter just imply that I am boring?"

"You so are", Alexandria teased.

"That's it!" Thorne exclaimed. "Macy, let's get up there and show those kids how it's done, what do you say?"

"Thorne, I…" Macy laughed, amused at his sudden display of enthusiasm.

"Please, Macy", Thorne appealed, "you have to help me out here. I need to defend my honor."

"Your honor, huh?" Macy said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, in that case…"

"You'll do it?" Thorne asked.

"Maybe", Macy said. "Okay. Yes. I'll do it."

"This is gonna be so cool!" Alexandria cheered.

"Kids your age are supposed to be ashamed of their parents", Thorne joked. "What did I do wrong?"

"Oh, I'm sure it'll come up in therapy eventually", Alexandria said. "But right now, I'm late for choir practice. Are you gonna drive me or not?"

Thorne smiled at his daughter.

"The Queen has spoken", he said.

* * *

Sheila watched from the beach as Thorne's car left the driveway. She could see that his daughter was sitting next to him. So Macy would be alone in the house - alone with Diana's child. But for how long? Sheila had to act quickly.

Walking around to the front door, she rang the doorbell. A few minutes passed before the door opened and Sheila found herself face to face with Macy, who was holding the baby.

"Hello, can I help…" Macy began politely, but stopped dead as she recognized Sheila's face from that dreadful night a few weeks ago. It was that woman from the beach, the one who had taken care of her after Luigi's death.

"Hello, Macy", Sheila said with a smile. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to stop by and see if you were all right. I've been meaning to come sooner, but I've been out of town."

"Thanks, that's really considerate of you", Macy said. "I… I never got the chance to thank you for helping me that night. It meant a lot to me."

"You're welcome", Sheila said. "I just happened to be passing by."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I remember your name", Macy said apologetically.

"It's all right", Sheila said. "I'm Molly."

That was funny, Sheila thought. Of everything she could have thought of, why would she choose to call herself her mother's name? Not that it really mattered, anyway.

"Won't you come in?" Macy asked. "I was just trying to get the baby to sleep. This is Noah, by the way."

Sheila followed Macy inside and looked attentively at the child. Her grandson! She could see it - his face looked so much like Diana's when she had been that age. It was amazing how the eyes, the nose, the tiny mouth, were all identical to hers. Macy noticed Sheila's interest in Noah and smiled.

"He's adorable, isn't he?" she said affectionately.

"He's beautiful", Sheila said. "Can I hold him?"

"Of course."

Carefully, Macy put the baby in Sheila's arms. He stirred uneasily and cried a little, but soon calmed down. Sheila smiled. She couldn't take her eyes off Noah. This was where he belonged. With her, in her arms. Not with Macy, and certainly not with the Forresters. But she would correct that wrong, all in good time.

"So, you're staying here with a friend?" Sheila asked Macy, trying to sound like she was just making casual conversation.

"Yes", Macy confirmed. "But I'll be moving into my own apartment soon."

"Is your friend here?" Sheila asked innocently, although she knew the answer.

"No, Thorne had to take his daughter to choir practice. But I imagine he'll be back any minute. If he doesn't stop by the office, that is. He's been working a lot lately, he's got a big fashion show coming up in a few weeks."

"Really?" Sheila said, suddenly interested. "That sounds very glamorous."

"I imagine it will be", Macy said. "Forrester Creations and E C Couture, that's where Thorne works, will be hosting a major charity fashion gala on the Queen Mary. It will be quite the party, from what I hear."

"That's very interesting…" Sheila said with an absent-minded look on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Macy laughed, "I hope I'm not boring you with this fashion talk. I didn't mean to. It's just that it was on my mind because Thorne and I just talked about maybe performing there. I don't really know what got into me, but apparently I agreed to it in a moment of weakness. We haven't sung together in years, though. But I'm starting to look forward to it."

"I wish I could be there to see it", Sheila said in a friendly voice. "It sounds like it will be the event of the season."

"Well, you could always try to get a ticket", Macy suggested. "If you can still get one. Or maybe I could talk to Thorne…"

"No, no, no", Sheila said quickly. "I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

"It's no trouble at all", Macy said. "I'll tell you what - let me talk to him and I'll see if I can get you a couple of tickets. It's the least I can do, after what you did for me."

"You are being too kind", Sheila said. "Maybe I…"

There was the sound of a car on the driveway. Sheila quickly gave the baby back to Macy.

"I have to go", she said hurriedly. "I just realized I forgot to lock my front door."

"Oh", Macy said. "Well, I guess you'd better leave, then. Thanks for stopping by, Molly! I'll let you know about the tickets, okay?"

"That sounds nice", Sheila said with a smile, and turned to leave through the glass doors facing the deck.

"Wait!" Macy said as the other woman stepped onto the deck and walked towards the beach. "I don't have your number!"

"It's okay, I'll be in touch!" Sheila called back as she kept walking away.

"I'll be in touch", Sheila repeated to herself with a triumphant smile. "You can count on that."


	27. Chapter XXVII: Plans and Preparations

**Chapter XXVII: Plans and Preparations  
**

Sheila sat down at the bar in the crowded Las Vegas restaurant and ordered a glass of champagne. She felt like celebrating tonight. It was true that there was a lot of work left for her to do, but so far, everything had been going according to her plan.

Opening her purse, she took out two tickets to the fashion gala at the Queen Mary. Free tickets, courtesy of Thorne Forrester. Getting them had been easy, almost too easy, she thought. A few dropped hints, and Macy had been only too eager to reward the kindness of the lady who had supported her the night of her confrontation with Luigi. That poor, clueless woman had no idea that she had been manipulated, and would probably never figure it out. She really hadn't changed one bit since that day many years ago when Sheila had managed to sneak alcohol into Macy's orange juice without her ever noticing. Some people never learn...

Turning the tickets over in her hands, Sheila laughed quietly. She had been invited to what was supposed to be the Forresters' night of triumph, but she would make it her triumph instead. She was in the right place at the right time. Now, all she had to do was wait.

Sheila did not have to wait for long. Only half an hour later, she could see the Boss entering the restaurant, as she knew he would. It had taken her a while, but she had finally managed to track down that elusive man and learn enough about his habits to be able to orchestrate a chance encounter. Turning around, champagne glass in hand, Sheila caught the Boss' eye and smiled. He immediately responded by making his way to the bar and sitting down next to her, pretending that he had intended to buy himself a drink all along. Sheila waited.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but haven't we met before?" the Boss said after a few minutes of silence.

"Finally", Sheila thought with satisfaction. Aloud, she only uttered a polite "no, I don't think so".

"That is strange", the Boss continued, "you look very familiar. I am usually very good with faces. At least ones as beautiful as yours."

"I'm just the opposite", Sheila said with a charming smile. "I'm hopeless with remembering people I meet. So maybe you are right, after all. Maybe I do know you from somewhere."

"I knew it!" the Boss said slyly. "So, what's your name, bella?"

"I could tell you", Sheila replied, "but then I'd have to kill you."

The Boss laughed.

"I like a woman who knows the value of discretion", he said. "It is very underrated these days."

"True", Sheila agreed. "Most people nowadays want nothing more than attention. They want to have their names in the paper in large print. They want to be famous, right? They don't know that the most important people are those whose names you never hear."

"People like yourself?" the Boss suggested jokingly.

"Or you, I'm sure", Sheila said. "You seem like an important man. You have that look of… someone who is used to being in command. Definitely the leader type."

"You are very observant", the Boss said.

"I'm sure you have made a few observations yourself", Sheila replied with an inviting smile.

"You are intelligent", the Boss said. "And cautious. Secretive, and probably with good reason. I also believe you are a dangerous woman."

Sheila raised one eyebrow mockingly.

"What makes you say so?" she asked.

"I have known plenty of dangerous women in my life", the Boss answered. "They have all been like you. Clever. Beautiful. Cunning. The kind that might cause a man to lose his head."

"But not this man?" Sheila said.

"No, bella, not this man. That is not to say", the Boss continued, "that I don't appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one."

"Well, I'm glad somebody does", Sheila said with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Changing the subject of a conversation by manipulating the other person's associations was a subtle skill that Sheila had perfected over the years. The Boss took the bait.

"Why would you say so?" he asked. "I imagine a woman like yourself is used to getting a lot of attention from men. They would have to be blind not to notice you."

"You'd be surprised", Sheila said. "In fact, I have just been stood up by a guy I was dating. We were supposed to meet here tonight, but apparently he had a change of plans. And they don't involve me."

"Impossible!" the Boss exclaimed with a chivalrous smile. "I don't believe it."

"Well, neither did I, the first time", Sheila lied. "But this was not the first time. And I'm sure it won't be the last. Really makes me wish I hadn't made plans to go to this big gala with him next week… I'm willing to bet he won't show up."

"What big gala might that be?" the Boss asked.

"Oh, it's a fashion thing", Sheila said dismissively. "He seemed to like the idea, so I got tickets for us. But right now I'd like nothing more than to burn the damn things. I really don't feel like going anywhere with him, not now, and probably not ever again."

"Sounds like it will serve him right", the Boss said.

"I don't know", Sheila said. "Maybe he doesn't care. Most men aren't that interested in fashion, anyway. You ask them to name some leading fashion houses, and nine times out of then, they can't even think of one."

"All men are not alike."

"Prove it!" Sheila challenged.

"Let me see…" the Boss began. "Armani. Versace. Forrester…"

He had uttered that last word with a slight change in tone. It had reminded him of some business he had not yet attended to. Sheila smiled inwardly.

"It's funny you should mention that name…" she said, even though she had virtually coaxed it out of him.

"Why?" the Boss said, suddenly alert.

"Because it's a Forrester fashion gala I'm going to. I mean, I was."

"When? Where?"

The Boss was getting eager.

"It's a charity event on the Queen Mary. You know, the ship. In fact, now that I come to think of it, I've got the tickets right here in my purse."

Sheila took out the tickets again and gave them to the Boss, who looked at them closely. It was perfect. The opportunity he had been waiting for to finally get even with the Forresters, to make them pay for Luigi's death and the destruction of his business.

"You seem interested", Sheila observed. "You can have them if you like. Take them, invite some gorgeous woman and have a good time!"

"I just might", the Boss answered thoughtfully. "How about I invite you? They are your tickets, after all."

"I don't know", Sheila said. "I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself. Unless, of course, I could forget the scum I was supposed to go there with."

"Maybe I could help you with that", the Boss suggested, smiling. "I do know how to treat a lady."

Sheila smiled back at him. She had seen the look in his eyes when she had first mentioned the Forrester gala. Now she felt confident that she had made progress. The Boss would be on the Queen Mary that night, and so would she, Sheila Carter. Something was bound to happen. It would most certainly be a night to remember - but not for the reasons the Forresters expected.

* * *

E F Couture was a veritable beehive these days, bustling with activity from early morning until late at night. Eric Forrester had to admit to himself that although it was stressful, he rather liked the excitement.

"Here I am, did you want to take a look at the showstopper?"

Hope opened the door and stepped into Eric's office. She was wearing a beautiful white gown that she was going to model on the Queen Mary. Eric looked at her with his trained professional eye.

"Turn around", he said. "Yes, it's like I thought. We need to lower the hemline just a little. It's not too tight around the waist, is it?"

"Not at all, it feels perfect", Hope replied.

"Good", Eric said, nodding. "Everything needs to be perfect. Every last detail. They come to us expecting quality, and that is exactly what they are going to get! Thank you, Hope."

Hope smiled and turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way", Eric said, calling her back. "I need Ridge to have a look at these designs before they go into production. Could you drop them off in his office?"

"Sure!" Hope said, taking the folder Eric handed to her and making a rapid exit.

Hope walked down the corridor to Ridge's office. She was just about to knock on the door when she noticed that it was already ajar and she could hear her mother's voice from within. Curious and unwilling to disturb the conversation, she stopped in the doorway. Through the narrow opening, she could see Ridge sitting at his desk and Brooke standing in front of it, her back to the door.

"Like I said, I have a few ideas for a future line", Brooke said.

"In that case, you should probably run them by Dad first", Ridge replied coolly. "It is his company."

"That may be", Brooke admitted. "But in this case, I trust your professional opinion more."

"My professional opinion on what?" Ridge said, raising his eyebrows.

"This", Brooke said, suddenly taking off her coat and dropping it to the floor. Underneath it, she was wearing nothing but a black teddy.

"Brooke, what…" Ridge began.

"It's lingerie", Brooke explained in a businesslike tone. "I think we should launch a new bedroom line. Remember, we made a lot of money with Brooke's Bedroom. Not to mention, it was great fun. Wasn't it?"

Brooke went round to the other side of the desk and leant against it only inches from Ridge's chair. She smiled. Ridge laughed uncomfortably.

"Brooke, I don't really think we should be discussing this…"

"Why not?" Brooke asked innocently. "We have been very successful in the past. You as a designer, me as a spokesperson. We always did make a great team."

"A lot has happened since then", Ridge reminded her.

"Are you still upset about that stupid text message from Deacon?" Brooke asked. "Can't you put that aside - for the good of the company? This is strictly business."

Ridge looked at Brooke's half-naked body.

"Strictly business, huh?" he said. "Only you could see it that way, Logan."

"Ha! You called me Logan again", Brooke observed.

"I did? What of it?" Ridge asked.

"Nothing", Brooke said with a smile. "I just think it's a good sign."

"I think you and your teddy have better things to do right now than look for signs", Ridge said in a voice he tried to keep business-like. But the corners of his mouth were twitching with suppressed laughter.

"Okay", Brooke said cheerfully, picked up her coat and went for the door. On her way out, she nearly collided with Hope.

"I'm sorry", Hope said, blushing slightly. "I have some designs for Ridge. Eric asked him to take a look at them…"

"Thank you, Hope", Ridge said, accepting the folder that the girl handed to him. "By the way, I have some documents for Thorne. Is he down in the sewing room?"

"I don't think so", Hope said. "I haven't seen him today. I don't think he's come in yet."

"Great!" Ridge exclaimed with some frustration. "The showing is only a week away, and Thorne is missing in action. Again. What is he thinking?"

"Well, I don't think we really need to question what's on Thorne's mind these days", Brooke commented. "Or should I say 'who'…?"

* * *

"Here we go, these are the last boxes!" Thorne called out cheerfully as he walked through the front door of Macy's new apartment. "I'll just put them right here on the table, okay?"

"Thanks, Thorne", Macy replied. "And thanks for helping me move, I appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure", Thorne replied, almost biting his tongue as he uttered the words. "I mean, that is…"

"What?"

"Actually, to be honest, Ally and I are kind of sad to see you go.", Thorne admitted. "It was nice having you around."

"I thought so, too", Macy said with a smile. "But it's better this way. I need to get my life back on track. You know, just… just stand on my own two feet. I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me, Thorne…"

"Will you be all right, though?" Thorne asked with some concern in his voice.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna pop open a bottle of champagne as soon as you walk out that door", Macy joked.

"Good", Thorne replied. "And, you know, if ever you need to talk I'm not that far away. All you have to do is call, and I'll drop everything and come see you…"

"So, is that what you did today?" Macy asked. "I guess you have tons of work to do over at E F Couture."

"Nothing that can't wait", Thorne said. "Besides, we have work of our own to do."

He pointed at one of the boxes he had just put on the table. It was the cardboard box containing their old CDs and various photos and newspaper clippings.

"We need to decide what to sing on the Queen Mary", Thorne said, picking up a CD and reading the track titles.

"Right", Macy said. "Actually, I have an idea already. I've been listening to our music a lot these past few days, and there's this one song that…"

She took the CD from Thorne and put it in the player. Moments later, "What's Forever For" started playing. Thorne grinned.

"That would have been my first choice, too", he said. "It was the first duet we ever sang. Our first big hit."

"We had a hit?" Macy asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course", Thorne replied. "We were huge. World famous. At least in Holland. The Dutch considered us the best thing since…"

"…since wooden shoes?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I guess that settles it, then", Macy concluded. "Let's try it."

They restarted the track and began singing along with the music. From the moment he sang the first phrase, Thorne was flooded by memories and emotions. All those times they had been on stage together, singing this song… Those long sessions in the recording studio and the late-night rehearsals when they had both been exhausted but high on caffeine and laughter. Macy's way of seeking eye contact with him whenever they sang harmonies, the way the two of them instinctively coordinated their breathing, Thorne's impulse to reach out and touch her as the singing got more intense - it was all still there, as if no time at all had passed. He could tell by the blush on Macy's cheeks that she felt it, too. Realizing that Thorne was observing her closely, she flashed him an exhilarated smile in between choruses.

_So what's the glory in living?  
Doesn't anybody ever stay together anymore?  
And if love never lasts forever, tell me  
What's forever for?_

They finished singing. The CD kept playing the next track in the background, but Thorne and Macy just stood there, gazing into each other's eyes with bated breath, neither of them knowing what to say or how to react to the feelings that had seized hold of them. Slowly, unconsciously, almost automatically, they started moving closer together, still keeping that intense eye contact that should be uncomfortable but wasn't…

The phone rang.

Thorne and Macy gave a simultaneous deep sigh and looked away. Macy picked up the phone and answered in an unsteady voice.

"Hello?"

"Macy? This is Connor Davis", the voice at the other end spoke. "I have some information for you."

"What kind of information?" Macy asked.

"We've finally managed to locate you husband Deacon Sharpe. We know where he lives and I expect to be in contact with him soon."

"Where is he? How soon will you…?"

"He lives in Kansas", Connor said. "We've got an address, but apparently, he's out of town for the time being. He's expected home sometime next week, so I've left him a message to contact me as soon as he gets back. After that, well, it won't be long before you'll get to meet him again."

"I… thank you", Macy stuttered.

As she hung up the phone, she slowly turned towards Thorne and looked at him.

"That was Connor", she explained. "He's found Deacon."

Then she sat down on the couch and covered her eyes with her hands. Thorne sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"That is good news, right?" he said in a cheerful voice meant to mask his disappointment. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I don't know what I want", Macy said, shaking her head sadly. "I don't think I'm in a position to know what I want."

"What do you mean?" Thorne asked.

"This!" Macy cried vehemently, pointing at the cardboard box on the table. "So many lost memories, so many things I should know, that I need to know in order to decide where to go from here, but I just don't know. I just don't know!"

She bit her lips. There were tears in her eyes.

"Maybe you should talk to someone", Thorne suggested. "James Warwick could…"

"He can't help me", Macy protested. "My problem is neurological, not psychological. There is no cure, no solution."

"It'll come to you", Thorne said encouragingly. "Just give it time."

"I have, Thorne! I have given it time. Two years and still nothing happens. And now I have to decide the fate of my marriage. A marriage I don't even remember. How can I do that? It's not fair to Deacon, it's not fair to Noah because he's the one I need to focus on now, and it's not fair to you."

"To me?" Thorne said. "Macy, I just want to help you, okay? I'm not expecting anything in return. I thought I made that clear."

"I know… you did", Macy said, smiling at him. "It's just that sometimes I wonder…"

She looked away without finishing the sentence. Thorne took her hand in his, reassuringly, like he had done so many times in the hospital. Neither of them spoke. Finally, Macy pulled her hand away and rose.

"I think you need to get to work", she said matter-of-factly.

"Okay", Thorne said awkwardly. "I'll just leave the box here in case you… in case you want to look at some more of this stuff. You can keep it, it's no problem."

"Okay, thanks, Thorne."

"I'll… I'll call you later."

Macy nodded. Thorne went to the front door, stopped at the doorstep, looked back at her and waved. She waved back at him, a clumsy, childish gesture. He left, closing the door carefully behind him. The moment he was out of sight, Macy burst out crying. This was her apartment. She was home, this was her home. But it didn't feel like it. It just felt… empty. Like she didn't belong here. Like she had just left the only place she would ever be able to call home. Like she had distanced herself from the one person who mattered the most to her in this world. Because she had to, she reminded herself. She was married, and her husband would be arriving soon. Deacon Sharpe. A man whose face she only knew from pictures, and whose voice she couldn't even recall.

Thorne lingered in the hallway outside Macy's door for a few minutes, fighting the urge to simply ring the doorbell and have Macy let him back inside. It didn't feel right, leaving her here. And it wouldn't feel right, coming back home to Alexandria tonight and having to get used to Macy and Noah not being there. Macy shouldn't be alone, Thorne said to himself. It was too risky, she was still too fragile. She hadn't been sober that long, she needed him.

No, that wasn't quite true, was it? Thorne realized that he was in fact working desperately to come up with an excuse, any excuse, so he wouldn't have to go. In reality, he knew that Macy would be fine, now that the first difficult few months were behind her. She could cope with her alcoholism, with or without him. That wasn't really the issue. Maybe she didn't actually need him anymore, maybe that wasn't the reason Thorne found it hard to leave today. He reflected for a moment, then it hit him. It was the other way around.

He needed her.


	28. Chapter XXVIII: The Floating Inferno

**Chapter XXVIII: The Floating Inferno**

It was the night of the big fashion gala on the Queen Mary. Sheila threw one final satisfied look at her reflection in the mirror - nobody would have guessed it was her. She was wearing heavy makeup and had curled her hair and dyed it a dark blonde for the occasion. A pair of pretty glasses were the final touch - big enough to work as a disguise, but not so conspicuous as to raise any suspicions. She was done.

Leaving the apartment, she put on a pair of thin gloves and picked up an envelope she had prepared beforehand, carefully putting it in her pocket. Then she went down to the street and started walking towards the place where she had arranged for the Boss to pick her up - she always deemed it safer not to reveal her actual address to anyone. Approaching the determined spot, she saw a limousine already waiting there for her. She went up to it and knocked on a window. The Boss opened the door and stared at her tensely for a moment, before relaxing and letting her into the car with an amused laugh when he realized that it was, indeed, her.

"So, you are incognito tonight, bella?" he commented.

"So it would appear", Sheila replied with a smile.

"Anyone in particular you don't want to be recognized by?"

"Perhaps. I appreciate the value of discretion."

"I have noticed", the Boss said. "You haven't yet asked about my name, or my work."

"And I'm not going to", Sheila said.

The Boss laughed.

"You are very wise, bella", he said.

The limousine started - they were on their way. Sheila smiled inwardly. Whatever happened tonight, whether or not the Boss would take this opportunity to get even with the Forresters, Sheila would turn it to her advantage. She touched the envelope in her pocket. It would come in handy.

* * *

Deacon Sharpe looked around in awe as he boarded the magnificent ship. Here he was, on the Queen Mary, trying to find a seat as the glamorous fashion gala was about to start. The tickets had cost more than he had thought, and more than he could really afford, but ever since he had arrived in LA earlier today, he had known that what he had to do couldn't wait until tomorrow. His daughter and wife were on this ship, and he needed to see them, tonight! He had already been separated from them long enough.

The phone call from that lawyer, Davidson, Davis or what his name was, had quite thrown him for a loop. At first, he had thought that it was a prank call, but a quick web search had confirmed that this guy was the real thing. Nevertheless, what he had to say was just one impossibility after the other. One, his wife Macy was alive. Two, she was actively searching for him. Three, his daughter Hope was looking for him, too. They wanted to see him, Deacon Sharpe! Deacon, the loser, the ex convict, the alcoholic, the shady character who made a living doing all sorts of things he didn't even know himself if they were legal or not, the kind of person you warn your kids to stay away from. But amazingly, those two didn't want to stay away, on the contrary, it was they who had reached out to him. And he wanted to respond as soon as possible - before they thought better of it and changed their minds.

But how would they react to meeting him again? What did they have to say to him? The last time he had seen Hope, he had deceived her. Bill Spencer had got him out of prison in exchange for him sabotaging Hope's wedding to Liam Spencer. Hope had known nothing about this plot at the time, thinking that her father had finally come back to take care of her after being absent all those years, but she must have found out about it since. How could she even want anything to do with him after that? Would she still be upset? Would she be willing to forgive?

With Macy, it was a different matter altogether. He had never abandoned her, it was she who had disappeared, without a trace, presumed dead for many years. How it had happened and why, nobody seemed to know, not even that fancy lawyer who had called, or Macy herself for that matter. Now she was back and that, too, was a mystery. The lawyer had explained to Deacon that, as a residual effect of the head trauma she had suffered, Macy remembered nothing of their marriage, but that she wanted to meet with him anyway. What did that mean? Was she even the same person he had known all those years ago?

The lights went down and the music started. A band started playing and a blonde woman sang an upbeat song that had the audience clapping their hands. It was - no, it couldn't be - Amber? Yes, Amber. When she had finished singing, she took a bow and then announced to the audience that the fashion show was about to start, and that the first set to hit the runway would be signed Forrester Creations. Deacon Sharpe sat down in the back of the auditorium, his heart beating rapidly.

* * *

Ridge watched the Forrester designs on the backstage monitor. They were beautiful. This first group was signed Thomas Forrester, and it was with mixed emotions that Ridge noticed that his son's designs bore a certain resemblance in style to his own. He had obviously learnt from his father. Ridge had always pictured himself and his son working side by side, like he and Eric always had, not as competitors from rivaling fashion houses.

"See? He still looks up to you." a voice commented.

Ridge turned around. It was Taylor.

"Doc, I didn't see you coming!" Ridge said. "I thought you were with Thomas and Steffy."

"I was, but I thought you might need me more."

Taylor smiled at him.

"Don't be angry with them", she continued. "I know you feel betrayed, but can you honestly say that you don't see a lot of yourself in Thomas? Didn't you feel the need to prove yourself at his age? It is only natural, the young male trying to challenge the alpha male…"

"Oh, no, you don't!" Ridge interrupted, grinning. "You know I have no weapons when you go all psychoanalytical on me."

"Good", Taylor replied. "You shouldn't have any. This is no war."

"You're wrong, Taylor", Brooke's voice sounded from the back of the room. "It is a war. One that we are going to win. Ridge and Eric will show everybody here that E F Couture is the leading fashion house in LA. We will blow Forrester out of the water, and Thomas and Steffy will only have themselves to blame. They are the ones who started this, not us. They betrayed their father and their grandfather by taking over the company. They had no right. Don't try to make excuses for them."

"I beg your pardon?" Taylor said. "Who are you to talk about right and wrong? When did you ever know the difference?"

Brooke's eyes narrowed.

"How dare you?" she hissed. "I have made my fair share of mistakes, but unlike you, I have owned up to them. I don't go around pretending I have never done anything wrong in my life."

"Believe me, you couldn't pretend _that _even if you tried", Taylor retorted. "There is too much evidence to the contrary."

"Ladies, ladies", Ridge objected in a voice whose intended authority was undermined by the obvious amusement he found in listening to the women arguing. "Keep it down or the audience will hear you."

"You heard him", Brooke said, looking at Taylor. "Besides, you should really get back to where you came from. We need some time here to prepare our first group."

* * *

The first group from Forrester Creations had left the runway, and moments later, three models from E F Couture stepped onto it wearing spectacular cocktail dresses, signed Eric Forrester. The audience greeted the designs with enthusiastic applause. The room was packed and all eyes were on the catwalk - all but the Boss's.

He had waited for the right moment ever since he boarded the ship. Sometime during the evening, he had thought, there must come a time when everyone in the audience was so focused on what was going on on stage, and everyone back stage so busy, that nobody would notice one person in the wrong place. Quietly, he slipped away, leaving his secretive date alone to watch the show.

The Boss sneaked out of the showroom and into a narrow corridor which led to the backstage area, which was really a group of staterooms that had been set up to work as dressing rooms. The corridors were so dark and full of models, make up artists, hair stylists and people carrying clothes and accessories back and forth that nobody took any notice of the Boss as he made his way to the area where the gowns were kept. Hiding behind a clothes rack, he carefully took out a tiny appliance from the inner pocket of his jacket and attached it underneath a chair. Pyrotechnics had always been a special area of interest to the Boss, and this little gadget was set to go off in half an hour. It looked harmless enough, but it contained enough flammable material to create a nice little bonfire among the priceless Forrester originals. It was only fair, given the financial loss the Boss had suffered after Luigi had died and the nightclub had been closed due to the Forresters' interference.

His work done, the Boss hurried back to his date. She was still watching the show, seemingly unaware that he had been gone. Good. He turned to Sheila.

"Are you enjoying yourself, bella?" he said.

"Yes" she said, "and you?"

"I could be enjoying myself more", the Boss admitted.

"Really?" Sheila said. "How?"

"If you and I were alone together", the Boss said, smiling seductively at his date.

Sheila smiled back at him.

"Are you hitting on me?" she asked.

"Is it working?"

"Maybe. What do you have in mind?"

"Well, why don't you and I go to my hotel room and we'll take it from there?" the Boss suggested.

"I don't know…" Sheila said vaguely, scanning the room. Then, finding what she had been looking for, she continued, "On second thought, I might take you up on that."

"Good, then let's get out of here!" the Boss said.

They rose from their seats just as the first part of the showing was finished and there was a short intermission. On her way out of the room, Sheila lost her balance briefly. As she stumbled, an old man came to her rescue and helped her. It was Eric Forrester, who had just left his position back stage to have a talk with the sound engineer.

"Are you all right?" he asked politely.

Sheila just nodded and continued walking, leaving the ship with the Boss. She had no reason to stay on the Queen Mary now that her mission was accomplished. The envelope that she had kept in her pocket was no longer there - it had imperceptibly migrated to the pocket of Eric Forrester's suit. And the fact that the Boss wanted to leave so abruptly was a good sign. Something was sure to happen, and it was wise not to be around when it did.

* * *

Thorne looked at his watch nervously. Five minutes. Then the intermission would be over, and the second part of the show would begin. He and Macy would be the opening act. It seemed quite unreal to him. He never thought he would sing in public again, he had thought that part of his life was over. Yet, here he was, just like all those years ago. And just like then, she was right there by his side.

"You ready?" Macy said, touching his shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"I keep pinching myself. I can't believe I'm doing this", Thorne replied.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good", Thorne said hesitantly, "I think."

Macy smiled.

"Good. It'll be fun. You'll see."

She looked happy, excited. Thorne remembered that look from when they had sung together before. Macy had never had a problem with stage fright, on the contrary. Performing was second nature to her, it came as naturally as living. Even more naturally, Thorne thought. Sometimes, Macy had had troubles dealing with her everyday life. She had had her share of demons, and he had seen her struggle with them. Singing was the easy part. She was never stronger, or more self-assured, than when she sang.

"Or more beautiful", Thorne said to himself, but quickly pushed away the thought. He couldn't think like that…

Macy glanced at him and caught his gaze. With a slight blush, she looked away momentarily. Then she took a deep breath and turned her attention toward the stage.

"Let's go!" she said.

* * *

From her seat near the runway, Alexandria had a great view of everything that was happening. The first half of the show had been very good, but the part she was secretly the most excited about was just about to start. She had seen many fashion shows in her life, but this would be the first time she ever saw her father perform on stage. It was Alexandria who had encouraged him to do it, so he had better pull it off or she would be mortified. What if he got cold feet?

"No, silly, he'll be fine", she told herself. "Besides, Macy will be with him. She won't let him screw up."

That very moment, Thorne and Macy made their entrance, side by side, greeting the audience with big smiles. They looked very confident, really professional, and Alexandria realized that she was probably more nervous than her father was.

The music started playing and they began singing. Alexandria listened with bated breath. But as soon as her father had got through the first verse, she drew a sigh of relief.

He was good. No, he was better than good. He was awesome! It was just like that time when he had sung for her in their living room, only more rehearsed and, of course, a totally different type of song. This was a romantic ballad - Alexandria had heard it before on that old CD.

They reached the chorus. Thorne and Macy were singing harmonies now, smiling incredulously at each other as they took in the audience's warm response - it seemed like they were having so much fun. Alexandria looked at her father's face. It had a kind of exhilarated glow, an expression that she had only seen before on those old photos she had found. He seemed so energetic, so alive, like he could finally breathe, not at all like when he was working in the basement at Forrester. Happy. Yes, he looked happy. Was it because he was singing? Or because he was with Macy? Throughout the song, Thorne had looked at his ex-wife almost constantly, with an expression in his eyes that Alexandria didn't quite recognize. He wasn't usually this intense. And Macy looked back at him, returning his gaze with the same abandon.

Alexandria almost felt as if she had witnessed something that wasn't meant for her eyes - an intimate moment between those two. She had teased her father mercilessly for months about his feelings for Macy (which he had denied vehemently but unconvincingly), but this was the first time that she truly saw that connection for herself, and she realized that it was no laughing matter. It was serious, and it went deep. Alexandria watched the couple on stage with mixed emotions. She was touched by how sweet they looked together and happy that her father was happy. But she also felt a little left out and, perhaps, just a tiny bit jealous.

Nevertheless, when the song ended and Thorne and Macy were met with enthusiastic applause, nobody cheered louder for them than Alexandria.

* * *

As soon as they had got off the stage, Thorne, laughing, threw his arms tightly around Macy's waist and lifted her a couple of inches off the floor and spun her around.

"We did it!" he cried, like an excited schoolboy. "We showed them how it's done, didn't we? I haven't had that much fun in… God, I feel twenty years younger!"

Macy laughed. She felt warm and out of breath, still on a high after the performance. She had thought she'd be used to it by now, having been on stage every night for so long at Luigi's, but singing with Thorne was different. He was right, it was… rejuvenating.

"We should do this again, soon!" Thorne continued enthusiastically. "I have half a mind to just drop everything and take off, get back on stage, go on tour, go back to Holland… say yes, say you'll come with me!"

"Be careful", Macy chuckled, "I have half a mind to take you up on the offer."

"You don't think I'm serious", Thorne said reproachfully. "Well, you know what? Dad and Ridge can have their stupid fashion house, what do I care? I'm getting out of that basement!"

"Your office at E F Couture isn't in the basement", Macy objected.

"It's a figure of speech."

They looked at each other, still laughing. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Macy said.

There was no response, but the door opened slowly. A blonde, muscular, quite handsome man in his forties stood in the doorway. It took a couple of seconds for Macy to connect this appearance in the flesh with the photos she had seen.

"Deacon?" she said tentatively, throwing a sideways glance at Thorne who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah", Deacon almost whispered. "Hi, Mace."

"I… I'm glad you're here. I've been wanting to…" Macy began. "Did Connor tell you…?"

"About your condition?" Deacon filled in. "Pretty much."

"I'm sorry."

Thorne shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"If you guys want to talk I could…" he said awkwardly. "I have some things to do, anyway."

Thorne made a quick exit into the corridor. Macy looked after him but didn't call him back. She then turned to her husband. Her husband? How could he be? That face meant nothing to her.

"You were great out there, Mace", Deacon said. "You still have the best voice of anyone I know."

"Thanks, Deacon", Macy said, trying to smile.

"Thorne was pretty good, too."

Macy opened her mouth, but closed it again. She didn't know what to say.

"So… is there anything I should know about?" Deacon asked bluntly.

"What?" Macy said, startled.

"You and Thorne. I saw the way you looked at each other just now. I'm just gonna make a wild guess here and assume that you've been spending a lot of time with him, right?"

"Thorne has been very supportive of me ever since I came back to LA", Macy said. "He let me stay in his guest room for a while, until I found my own place to live. He has been a very good friend."

"That's it?" Deacon said incredulously. "Look, Macy, you have to be up front with me here. I've got to know what the situation is, I am your husband, after all. If that is how you see me - as your husband."

"There is nothing going on between me and Thorne if that's what you mean", Macy said. "As for our marriage, well, I… I just don't know. Right now, I'm really confused about a lot of things that I don't remember… I think we just need to take things slowly and try to figure this out..."

"You don't remember me at all, right?" Deacon inquired, his voice a little unsteady.

"No", Macy admitted. "I feel like this is the first time I've met you."

"So what have your first impressions been, so far?"

"You're handsome, you're straightforward, and you're intelligent", Macy said, smiling, "and I think you are a good person."

"Well, you are probably the only one who's ever thought that of me", Deacon said. "I guess that's one of the reasons why I fell in love with you all those years ago. I wanted to prove you right. And I think for a while there, you did teach me how to be a better person. Too bad I forgot about it so quickly after you were gone."

"I don't believe that!" Macy said with confidence. "Not for a second. And I don't think your daughter believes that either, or she wouldn't want to see you again."

At the mention of his daughter, Deacon looked up attentively.

"Is Hope around?" he asked.

"Yes", Macy said. "I think she's gone to put on her gown. She's modeling the show stopper, but she isn't on for at least another fifteen minutes."

"Would this be a bad time to…" Deacon said. "I mean, I wouldn't want to disturb her before…"

"Are you kidding?" Macy said. "You're her father, of course she's gonna want to see you, I've heard her say so myself. Go. Go! Through there. You and I can talk later. We've got all the time in the world."

Deacon turned toward the door Macy had indicated, but before leaving the room, he stopped and embraced her warmly.

"Thanks, Macy", he said. "You know, you really haven't changed a bit in all these years. The last thing I remember of you was you encouraging me to spend time with my kids, and here you are again…"

"You deserve to know Hope. She deserves to know you. It's pretty simple in my eyes."

"Well, that's one of the things I loved about you, Mace. And, you know, call me crazy, but I still do love you. And I think we could make this marriage work, if we wanted to. If it's what you want. But I'm not gonna go all bitter ex husband on you if you decide against it, okay? It was a long time ago, I know that. And it wasn't for long. If your feelings have changed, I'm fine with that. I'm not expecting anything of you, you know? I'm just glad that you're okay, and I want you to be happy."

"I want that for you, too."

"You know, whatever happens, I'm not going to stop caring about you. I'll still be your friend. So if, for some strange reasons I can't even begin to understand, you decide to go down that road with Thorne again, you just let me know if he screws up, and I'll be after him in no time with a baseball bat…"

Macy laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind", she said, raising her eyebrows. "Now, go, you don't want to miss Hope!"

* * *

Hope took the gown from the clothes rack and looked at it. It was beautiful, some of the best work Eric had ever done. Even in this brilliant collection, the dress she was about to put on was clearly the centerpiece. She stood there in the small room back stage, surrounded by dresses and clothes racks, knowing that the showing was approaching its grand finale, and yet she marveled at how quiet it was back here. Normally, this place would be full of employees running around like crazy chicken, but since she would be the last one to hit the runway, everybody else was probably already on their way there.

Hope took off her dressing gown and stepped into the Eric Forrester original. It fit so perfectly. It was made for her. She looked at her reflection in a small mirror, adjusting the sleeves.

Suddenly, she saw something in the mirror and started. Right behind her, an apparition from the past. A memory, a ghost? She spun round to face the figure. It was still there.

"D… Dad?" she stuttered.

The man smiled.

"Hope", he said.

"I… you're here!" Hope continued, trying to control the flood of conflicting emotions that swirled inside her. "Oh my God, you came!"

"As soon as I found out you were looking for me", Deacon said. "I didn't expect you'd want anything to do with me, not after… Hope, I'm so sorry."

"About what happened in Puglia?" she asked. "When you tried to stop my wedding?"

"Yeah, that. I shouldn't have let that scum Bill Spencer talk me into doing his dirty work for him. But the truth is, I didn't just do it to get a ticket out of jail. I wanted to see you, to see what had become of you. I was happy to see you. Everything I told you in Italy - it wasn't a lie. Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought about you, Hope."

"Really?" Hope said, her voice shivering.

It would be so easy to believe him, so easy to forgive him, but what if her mother was right about him? What if he really couldn't be trusted?

"I love you, Hope", Deacon said earnestly. "I wish I had been more involved when you were growing up. I wish I had been a better man, one that you could have been proud to call your father. But I'm willing to change now. I'm willing to start over… if you'll just give me a chance. Are you willing to do that?"

Hope looked at her father. There were tears in his eyes, and she felt like she was about to start crying, too. It was all she had ever wanted - a real father, one who was there for her, who she could depend on. And here he was, offering the very thing she had dreamt of so many times as a child.

"I promise, I won't let you down again", Deacon said. "And I won't leave you. Not now, not ever. Please believe me, I do love you."

Hope started sobbing and threw her arms around her father's neck.

"I love you too, Dad", she said. "And I do believe you. I'm so glad you are here."

That very moment, their emotional reunion was interrupted by a flash of white light, a loud bang and a shockwave that threw both of them to the floor. The small explosive device the Boss had hidden in the room had gone off.

* * *

From his place back stage, just behind the runway, Rick could see everything that was happening out there. Forrester Creations were just finishing their part of the showing with a set of three trendy evening gowns designed by Caroline. They were very good, Rick thought with a mixture of envy and pride. Of course, he wanted E F Couture to come out on top, but he couldn't help feeling a little happy for Caroline too on what might be her night of triumph.

That is, if Eric's latest show stopper didn't make the audience forget about everything else they had seen here tonight. It was that kind of dress, after all. A work of art. And his little sister would be modeling it. Where was she, by the way? It was almost time and she still hadn't returned from the dressing room. Rick searched the room but couldn't find her.

"Mom, have you seen Hope?" he asked Brooke.

"What?" Brooke asked. "I can't hear you, the music is too loud."

It was true, the Forrester crew had really gone overboard with the music to this last group. In order to convey a young, hip vibe, Steffy was DJing and the volume was quite high. It was almost impossible to keep a normal conversation in the showroom now.

"Hope!" Rick shouted. "Have you seen her lately?"

Brooke shook her head and shrugged, looking around. It was strange, though. The girl should be here somewhere.

Eric and Ridge joined them, looking a bit stressed out.

"Are we ready for our last set?" Eric asked. "We've only got a few minutes."

"Hope's not here", Brooke explained.

The music stopped as Forrester Creations finished their showing. Rick could hear the crowd going wild out there, cheering and applauding. What now? They were next, but their model was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Pam sat in the back of the showroom, watching the audience rise to their feet, applauding the kids at Forrester Creations. Then the cheers subsided and there was a moment of silence. A tense anticipation, but nothing happened. That was strange, she thought. Didn't Eric have another set coming up? Just a few feet away, she spotted Donna who was sipping a drink by the door. She went up to her gleefully.

"Hi Donna!" Pam said. "Is anything wrong over in your camp?"

Donna almost spilled her drink.

"Pam!" she exclaimed. "No, nothing's wrong. I guess there's just a slight delay."

"Ooh, the press won't like that!" Pam gloated. "They might be getting impatient. You know Jarrett doesn't like…"

She stopped in the middle of the sentence, anxiously sniffing the air around her.

"What?" Donna said, exasperated.

"I smell something", Pam replied and sniffed again. "Something's burnt. I'd know that smell anywhere. I'm very sensitive to it, I tell you. I would never allow anything I'm cooking to get even close to that…"

"What are you talking about?" Donna interrupted. "Nobody's baking anything here."

"Maybe there's a fire?" Pam suggested. "Don't tell me you can't smell that. It's getting stronger, too."

Donna paused with a perplexed frown. Pam was right. There was a distinct smell of smoke.

"But, surely, if there was a fire, the alarm would go off?" Donna said, doubtfully.

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't?" Pam insisted. "Are you just going to sit here and wait for it with flames all around you?

"You're right", Donna concluded. "It's probably nothing, but we should bring it to someone's attention. I'll go backstage and talk to Eric."

"And I'll go talk to Thomas and the other kids", Pam said. "Then I'm out of here!"

* * *

Convinced that something was not right when the show stopper didn't appear, Alexandria had already risen from her seat and was heading backstage to find her father when she saw Eric walking out on the runway, a microphone in his hand. She stopped to look at him - there was something tense and unnatural in his posture. Alexandria's heart started pounding, although she wouldn't have been able to say why.

"Ladies and gentlemen", Eric said. "It has been brought to our attention that there has been a smell of smoke in certain parts of the showroom. We are looking into this, but as of right now, there is no indication that there is any cause for concern. However..."

That very moment, a siren started blaring. The fire alarm! Immediately, everybody in the showroom was on their feet, searching for the nearest exit. Eric tried to make his voice heard above the audience's agitated murmurs.

"Until the firefighters arrive, and we find out what caused the alarm, we will need to evacuate the ship", he continued. "We are sorry about this inconvenience, but I am sure you understand that safety must come first. Hopefully, we will be able to continue the showing shortly…"

"That's a bit optimistic", a voice murmured ironically. "It'll be hard enough to get all these people off the boat, and it'll be even harder getting them back on."

Alexandria turned around. It was Bill Spencer. Shaking his head condescendingly, he walked slowly toward the exit, where a crowd was starting to form since the door was too small to let everybody through at once. Most people seemed to keep their calm, but were a bit annoyed by the loud fire alarm and the forced evacuation - apparently the general opinion was that the whole thing had been blown out of proportion. Realizing it was useless to try to walk against the stream, Alexandria followed everyone else out of the room, hoping she'd find her father eventually.

Just then, the lights came on in the showroom. Until then, the room had been fairly dark and only the runway had been lit by spotlights, but when it suddenly became light, the gravity of the situation became clear at once. High up underneath the ceiling, a fog of smoke had started building. There really was a fire! Where? Nobody knew. In a split second, the mood in the room shifted from annoyance to fear, and the mass of people pushing toward the exits grew denser. Alexandria felt the panic starting to rise inside her - unknown bodies were pressed against her so tightly that she could hardly breathe, and she prayed that she wouldn't lose her balance and fall underneath them.

"Dad!" she called out, in vain.

Inch by inch, she made her way to the door, out into the corridor, down a narrow crowded staircase, through another corridor and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, off the ship and onto the quay. A lot of people were standing there in the darkness of the night, talking all at the same time in agitated voices, calling out for people they could not see. Alexandria didn't know if anybody else in her family had made it out there yet - it would probably take most of them longer as they were backstage and further from the exits. God, what if the fire spread before…?

Finally she spotted a few familiar faces. Pam and Donna were standing only a few feet away, looking anxiously at the ship. A few light-colored gowns gleamed in the dark and Alexandria recognized the latest Forrester group. Then, Thomas and Steffy got off the ship closely followed by Amber and Caroline. They had all probably been standing in the same place when the alarm went off. Alexandria went to them.

"Have you seen Dad?" she asked.

They shook their heads without a word, looking quite worried. Alexandria was close to tears. But as people kept streaming off the ship, her hopes kept rising. There was Marcus, Taylor… but still a lot of people from E F Couture were missing. No, there they were now. Brooke and Ridge. Rick, Eric… Macy. Thorne. Thank God!

"Dad!" Alexandria screamed and ran up to him.

"Ally!" Thorne replied and hugged his daughter. "I have been looking everywhere for you."

"See, I told you they'd be out here already", Eric commented to Brooke, and then continued, turning to Alexandria: "We stayed behind to look for you but since you were not in there I figured you had to be out here after all. Is Hope with you?"

"No", Alexandria said, confused. "I haven't seen her here."

Brooke looked back at the Queen Mary. The ship looked empty and abandoned. They had been the last ones to get off. Sirens were blaring in the distance - the firefighters were on their way.

"Oh my God", she whispered.

* * *

The initial blast had knocked him unconscious, but after a short while, Deacon woke up and found himself in a room that was quickly filling with smoke. Most of the clothes on the racks were on fire, as were parts of the furniture. He coughed. There was no time to lose. Hope!

Looking around desperately, he found her lying on the floor by the wall. He spoke her name, several times with increasing urgency, but got no reply. Turning her over, he saw that she had a bump on her forehead - the explosion must have thrown her against the wall and knocked her out. Deacon looked up at the thick smoke. The room was getting hotter by the minute and it was difficult to breathe. He had to get Hope out of there somehow!

In order to protect Hope from the heat and toxic fumes, Deacon took off his shirt and wrapped it around his daughter's nose and mouth. Then he slowly pulled her toward the door, making sure to stay as close to the floor as possible. God, it was hot! But he couldn't leave without her. He needed to get Hope out of that room, away from the flames and the smoke. It was the only thing on his mind.

She was so heavy. Deacon had to stop to cough several times on his way to the door. He could feel the skin on his back stinging and his nostrils were filled with the odor of burnt hair, but it didn't really matter now. He could see the threshold. They were almost there. With one final effort, he dragged the girl's unconscious body through the doorway. Gasping for air, he looked around. Which way should he go now? Where was the exit? Was this another doorway than the one he had used when he entered the room? The fire would be spreading, they needed to get away from the fire. Air. It was so hard to breathe. Hope coughed a little, but didn't wake up.

Deacon kept pulling Hope away from the burning room, along a narrow passageway. The smoke hurt his eyes and made it difficult for him to see where he was going. How much further could he drag her? She seemed to be getting heavier with every inch.

What was that? Deacon listened. He thought he had heard something moving on the other side of the wall. No… But yes, there it was again! The sound of footsteps. Deacon tried to cry out, but realized his voice was gone. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried again. It was no use. No matter how many times he inhaled, his lungs didn't seem to fill with air, but with some other substance that almost made him gag. He was starting to feel dizzy. With his fists, he knocked as hard as he could on the wall separating him from the footsteps. A regular pattern, over and over again. Hope was lying on the floor beside him. He lay down protectively on top of her to shield her from the rising heat as he repeated his knocking pattern one last time. It was all he could do.

Moments before he lost consciousness, he was half aware of a gush of cool moist air and people moving rapidly along the passageway. Distorted voices called out "We have found them!" and others replied "Hurry!" as they approached.

They were safe, Deacon thought. Hope was safe.


End file.
